Reckoning
by Quantum Leek
Summary: [Shattered Dreams vol 4] Insomnia is safe, Drautos and Emperor Aldercapt are dead, the sun has risen, and everyone is still alive, if a little worse for the wear. In spite of that, Reina Lucis Caelum can't smile. If the last ten years never happened, who is she really? Why does a Dream feel more real that reality? [Full Summary Inside]
1. Regis, Being a Father

Summary: Insomnia is safe, Drautos and Emperor Aldercapt are dead, the sun has risen, and everyone is still alive, if a little worse for the wear. In spite of that, Reina Lucis Caelum can't smile. If the last ten years never happened, who is she really? Why does a Dream feel more real that reality? And how is she supposed to protect her friends and family from the Draconian and escape fate when she can't even remember where and when she is, sometimes?

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Series: Shattered Dreams vol 4

Sountrack: Search "Reckoning || FFXV" on Spotify

Related Fics:

_Fractured_ (vol 1)

_Remnants_ (vol 2)

_Restored_ (vol 3)

Author's Notes: This is the fourth and final story in the Shattered Dreams series. Honestly, it will probably not make very much sense without having read at least some of the other stories, but hey, you do you man.

* * *

_Day 0_

The ship came down.

Half of Lucis had gathered between Regis and the wreck. He pushed through. A path opened for him as soon as he arrived, but his eyes were on the fire beyond and the twisted black metal shape that had once been a Magitek ship.

Noctis stepped in front of him. "Dad—"

He laid his hand on Noctis' shoulder and brushed him aside without pause. He broke free of the crowd. No others dared stand between him and his destination.

The whole front-end of the imperial ship was pulverized—metal had crashed into earth and the earth had won. The flames had spread, as well.

"Reina?!" Regis shouted over the creak of metal and the crackle of fire. "Cor?!"

The rear hatch fell open with a resounding crash before he reached it. Smoke billowed out from within, only partially obscuring the figures within. Shapes were visible before faces, but that was all he required.

Cor was limping—favoring his right knee—and cradling and inert body in his arms.

Reina.

Regis strode forward, meeting them at the bottom of the ramp. Soot streaked her face and clothes, but not blood. A faint network of fading white burn marks twisted up her arms and neck.

Her skin was warm beneath his fingers as he searched for the pulse he wasn't certain he would find. If she breathed, he saw no indication. He pressed his fingers against her neck, beneath her chin.

One heartbeat.

And another.

"_Regis_." Cor was speaking. Though he had been for several seconds, Regis could not recall a single word he had said. Now he said, "She's alright. Just exhausted."

"The cost of the ring," said Regis.

He turned around, taking stock of their location and assets. They had arrived in a Magitek ship; it would serve to take them back to the Citadel. Ravus stood ahead of the crowd, eyes fixed upon Reina.

"Commander," Regis called. "Will you return us to the Citadel?"

His gaze snapped toward Regis. He was as starkly unreadable as ever, but he turned on his heel and shoved his way through the crowd toward the Magitek engine.

Regis glanced over his shoulder. In that short time, Ignis had taken Reina from Cor.

"Come." Regis turned to follow Ravus. Two steps along, a sharp pain in his right knee halted him. Damn leg. He may as well cut it off for all the good it did.

Noctis offered his cane to him. Regis had been holding it when he had walked through the crowd, surely. Either he had tossed it aside or passed it to Noctis between now and then. It mattered little. He took his cane and followed Ravus, with both Ignis and Noctis trailing after.

No one spoke as they boarded and took flight. Ignis lowered into a seat, holding Reina in his lap. If not for his gods damned knee, Regis would have been carrying her himself. But Ignis would have to suffice.

Her skin was so pale. Had it always been thus? He remembered her being hale and healthy but a few days before. Always it was his skin that stood paper-white against the color of hers. Always it was her who stood for him, taking every responsibility that ought have been his and making them her own. It had been four years since he had been anything like a father to her. Longer, still, since he had been a decent one.

No longer.

This weakness ended tonight.

They made good time in the Magitek engine. With the entire Crownsguard and Kingsglaive still at the warehouses, the Citadel was all but deserved when they landed. Any servants on duty had shut themselves away and so Regis passed through deserted halls, many of which were strewn with fallen MTs or Crownsguards, to reach the lifts. Once they were ascending, and only then, did Regis note Ravus had followed. He stood apart, but his eyes strayed to Reina more often than not.

His loyalty to her, perhaps, extended beyond a desire to protect his sister.

The lift doors opened. In the lounge beyond, Lunafreya rose from her seat on the sofa. "Your Majesty—"

Regis held up his hand and swept past her, leading the procession past Reina's door to his own suite of rooms. He held the door for Ignis.

"Lay her on my bed," Regis said.

Once Ignis had done so, Regis dismissed him with a motion and took to Reina's side. She looked paler still under the Citadel lights, but the faint burn marks that twisted up her arms and neck had become invisible, save to one who knew to look for them and then only in the right light.

"Do you want me to call a doctor or something?" Noctis asked.

Ignis and Ravus had left. He had lingered.

"No."

Outside, the city was in chaos. Reina's wounds were non-physical. Regis might aid her with his own magic, if he dared try, but there was little any modern medicine could do for her. And every doctor in the Crown City would find their hands full for weeks to come.

"What I would like you to do is go outside and be my heir," Regis said.

"What?"

"I have permitted you to be a child your whole life. Tonight I must ask you to be the Crown Prince. Niflheim has been repelled, but the people will need a face to guide them through the dark. That face will be you."

"Well what're you going to do?"

Regis turned back to Reina. "I am going to be a father."

For perhaps the first time in his life.

* * *

AN: Welcome to the beginning of the end! Right now I'm still editing this story, so I'm afraid we're back to once-weekly chapters (sorry!). Much like Restored, some of them are quite short. Meanwhile, some of them are quite long. Honestly there's just no consistency. As soon as editing as done, we'll go back to the Monday/Friday schedule. Until then... see you all next Monday.


	2. Cor, Letting Go

_Day 0:_

The smoke hadn't even cleared before people were rushing in: Gladio made it first, scooping Iris up into a bone-crushing hug, but Regis was a close second and his eyes were fixed squarely on Cor. Or on Reina, whom Cor was carrying. He tossed his cane aside and walked as if he had never needed it at all. Noctis was at his heels.

"She is only unconscious," Cor said.

Noctis was the only one who seemed to hear.

He might as well have been speaking to a deaf man, for all that Regis paid him any attention. It didn't matter that he had done the same damn thing and already found the pulse that Regis was looking for—Regis would do it for himself before he believed it, anyway.

Everyone was a critic. Either that, or no one trusted anyone else to take care of Reina as well as they could, themselves. Cor was no exception.

Ignis stepped in front of him just as soon as Regis had turned away. "I can carry her, Marshal."

"As can I."

Never mind that shooting pain in his leg every time he took a step, the fact that his knee was threatening to give out on him any second now, and the persistent internal screaming that the nerves in his left arm were setting off inside his mind. He would carry her.

"Don't be daft." Ignis' brow furrowed—some of that perfect self-control slipping in the face of concern. "You are injured."

Like Ignis was any better off.

"I'm fine." Cor turned and stepped past him, suppressing the wince that came naturally with putting weight on his right leg.

Ignis dogged him. "Would you risk dropping her to preserve your own ego?"

"This has _nothing _to do with my ego."

"Holy hell, stop arguing!" Noctis shouted at them. "Cor. _Give Rei to Ignis_. You can barely walk. Now let's _go!_"

It wasn't that he didn't trust Ignis to keep her safe—he was a good man and he had proved his aptitude and devotion ten times over tonight—it was just that Cor trusted _himself _to do it _better_. But Cor passed her over. Grudgingly. One last glance at her sleeping face; one last brush of his fingers over the ashy burn marks that stretched up her arms. Would they ever heal?

He followed after them, ignoring the pain and refusing to limp just for the sake of placating his knee. But either Regis had adapted better to his own bum knee or else he just didn't feel the pain in the face of everything else; the others reached the Magitek engine first. The hatch closed before Cor could follow.

He watched them fly away, fists clenched as he resisted the urge to punch the building beside him. Not like that was going to do him any good, but _Gods damn it_ he hated being given a task he couldn't follow through until the end.

Or he just hated seeing her hurt and doing nothing about it.

But he was never admitting that out loud.


	3. Noctis, Being the Crown Prince

_Day 0:_

Be the Crown Prince.

Be the Crown Prince.

Right.

He could do that.

What the hell did a Crown Prince even do, again?

Ignis would know. Yeah. Good idea. Find Ignis.

Noct stepped out into the hall and nearly ran into him and Ravus. Hovering right outside.

"How is she?" Ignis asked.

At the same time, Ravus said, "Is she alright?"

"Asleep, I guess. Dad's worried, but he doesn't think she's going to die or anything. I guess it's just something she has to sleep off or whatever," Noct said.

"Is there nothing we can do?" Ignis asked.

"Not for her," Noct said. "But Dad wants me to be in charge of the city for some reason, so yeah, there's probably a lot you're going to need to do right now."

He had forgotten Luna was even up here until she said something.

"Noctis… I know that you love your sister very much, but this victory she has bought for Lucis is a hollow one. I feel deeply that this was never meant to happen. If she continues along this path, I fear all Eos will fall to darkness."

For a second he could only stare at her. So many things were wrong with what she had just said that he couldn't even begin to unpack it.

"What?" Noctis said. "No. You know what? Never mind. Don't say anything else. Maybe ever, if you can help it. Let's go, Ignis."

"Prince Noctis." Ravus stepped forward, stopping Noct in his tracks. Since when did he give Noctis a title? Since right now, apparently. "I swore my blade to your sister. You say there is nothing to be done for her and so, in the interim…"

Was he asking Noctis to give him orders?

And he'd thought daemon weapons falling out of the sky was as crazy as tonight could get.

"I don't know what she wants," Noct said. A couple days ago, maybe he could have guessed. Now? No way. "But you can start by keeping your sister the hell away from her."

"Consider it done."

Weird.

Noct started at him and tried to believe he meant it. The worst part was, he did.

He turned back around and walked straight past Luna without looking at her. No point standing around listening to whatever bullshit she had cooked up. He had a kingdom to run.

The crowd outside the upper levels looked half relieved and half uncertain when he showed up. Some of them were servants or attendants. Some of them were probably part of Dad's government, but Noct couldn't have said who they were or where they fit. It didn't really matter, anyway. He gave them something to do.

The first thing was the panic—even before getting everyone healed or patched up. The daemons had stopped attacking people. By first light, a few of the braver reporters were coming out of whatever holes they had been hiding in. He didn't know shit about talking to reporters. But Rei always said it didn't so much matter what you said as how you said it. Probably, right now, what they needed to see was that _someone _was doing _something_. Even if it was mostly a lie.

He told them as little as he could while assuring them that he was doing everything he could to put Insomnia back together. It helped that Ignis stood behind him to make everything look more official.

They worked on getting people healing and aid after that. The whole Crownsguard headquarters got turned into an infirmary some time around full dawn. Prompto had ended up tangled up in passing out bandages, but he ducked out and joined Noctis as soon as he could.

Cor was still limping around with blood soaking through the torn-up, half-assed bandage tied around his knee. Trying to make sure his guards were seen to first. Noct told him to shut up and sit down. It worked for a little while.

Gladio joined them to say he hadn't heard from his dad since before the signing, so after that they went to look for Clarus. They found him in the treaty room, crumpled against the wall. Why was it that time always seemed to stretch out and slow down when trouble hit? He wasn't dead—but with the way Gladio raced across the room, Noct knew he had thought so, too. They got Clarus up to the doctors. When he woke up later, he said he couldn't feel his legs. Couldn't move them either.

For some reason Gladio still stuck with them afterward instead of staying with his dad. By the time the sun was setting again, Noct could have kissed all three of them. Definitely figured out what the point of having a royal retinue was.

It was hard to say how long he had been awake. When he stumbled back through the doors to his dad's rooms, Dad was still up—probably hadn't slept either—and Rei was still out, but she looked a little cleaner and was changed out of her burnt clothes. They traded off keeping an eye on her so the other could shower. Noct passed out in a chair during his watch.

The sun came up again.

Rei was still out cold.

* * *

AN: Hey everyone! Happy holidays! Just a heads up that I'm going to be moving across the country this time next week, so I have no idea what chapter updates will look like. I have everything edited and ready to post, so it will go up when I have both time and internet. Not sure when that will be. I believe it's possible to schedule posts on p-a-t-r-e-o-n (fun fact, ffn censors that name, much like it censors links), though, so chapters should post on time there. Even if you're not a Patron, the new chapters are public on Mondays. So if it doesn't show up here, check there (or wait until whenever it does show up here). Link on my profile.

In other news, Episode 4 of the Remnants audio drama is on YouTube today! You can find it on our channel if you're following us. If not: why? But also, there will be a link on my profile.


	4. Cor, Making a Confession

AN: Hey everyone, sorry for the delay. As I mentioned last week, things have been hectic recently. I'm hoping to be able to keep a regular schedule in the coming weeks, but we'll see how that goes... So until everything settles down, thanks for your patience and sorry for the weird update schedule.

* * *

_Day 3:_

It was two days before they let him see her. Every time Noctis walked by in a hurry on his way somewhere with Ignis dogging his steps, Cor stopped them. Each time they told him the same as they had the last time: Reina was still unconscious and Regis was still with her. Nothing changed.

On the third morning, Clarus was conscious enough to complain. Not that he was well. The doctors had him in a back brace and heavily medicated—they had tried to do something similar to Cor, but either he was more stubborn or he was more intimidating and the end result was a stiff bandage on his knee, a crutch, and a bottle of pain pills that he hadn't touched. But Clarus was lucid enough that he couldn't lay around while Insomnia was short on leadership. He dragged himself out of bed and demanded a wheelchair.

And people said _Cor _was mulish.

Cor pushed Clarus up, himself—half because it felt better than sitting around the infirmary all day and half because he wanted to get up there as badly as Clarus did. They made a bit of a spectacle: Cor, leaning on the wheelchair for support while Clarus held Cor's crutch across his lap. Mostly Cor tried to ignore any need for the crutch. In practice, it was difficult to go without both medication _and _the crutch, so he chose the lesser of two evils.

They found a bunch of attendants outside the royal quarters. Probably they were supposed to be inside, but no one had come along to let them in. Or Regis was in such a difficult mood that they didn't dare go any closer.

Idiots. That was _exactly _when Regis needed someone nearby.

They went in. Clarus winced and clutched at the crutch with the slightest bump, but he held on—white-faced and tight-lipped.

Reina was laid up in Regis' bed; he stood beside her, speaking to Noctis who stood by the door. They both turned when Cor pushed Clarus in.

"Clarus. How are you feeling?" Regis asked.

"My back is broken and I may never walk again; they have me drugged to the teeth and it still bloody well hurts," Clarus said sharply. And then, "I thought I'd find you senseless with grief and making a fool of yourself."

"Thank you, Noctis," Regis said. "I agree with your assessment. Please update me if anything changes drastically."

Noctis bowed and walked past Clarus and Cor, and through the door. He gave them both a once-over before leaving.

"No, Clarus," Regis said. "As you can see, I am very much in possession of my faculties. Though you may find I have made an uncharacteristic choice."

Cor found his eyes wandering toward the bed, where Reina lay. She was so still and so damn pale against the black of the bedspread. Closed up here with all the light blocked out by shutters and Reina looking like that—it looked as if she was already gone.

_Already_. No. She wasn't going anywhere. Not now. Not ever. Not while Cor was still alive.

He lost track of the conversation. He limped over to the windows and threw the blinds open. The early morning light poured in and struck the bed. Reina flinched. Probably he should have felt bad about that, but all he registered was relief at that miniscule sign that she was still alive. In the light, she looked a little less deathly pale. She was still wearing the ring.

"You let her keep it?" Cor asked, heedless of the conversation he was interrupting.

Both of them looked to him, then back to Reina.

"She will not relinquish it," Regis said.

That didn't make any sense. She was _unconscious_.

Regis leaned forward and smooth his hands over hers. She gave no sign of life until he grasped the ring and tried to remove it—then her hand closed into a fist.

"No," she mumbled, though her eyes never opened.

"Why should she be so insistent on keeping it?" Clarus asked.

"She isn't," Cor said, before he could stop himself. They were both looking at him again. "But she doesn't want Regis to have it."

"Indeed." Regis released the ring but not her hand.

It was just possible that she would have let someone else take it—but who knew if she could even recognize the difference. At least they knew she was conscious enough to keep trying to protect Regis.

When everything was settled between Regis and Clarus, something like the political process began to take place in Regis' sitting room. Clarus stayed for as long as he could manage—they even had a cot brought up and a doctor standing by to administer to him, but eventually he was taken across the hall to rest in one of the spare rooms.

Cor was allowed to stay. More importantly, he was allowed to stay at Reina's side. No one had much use for a soldier right now and the doctors would only turn down his offer of help. He knew because he'd tried that already. He was tired of lying in a bed and staring at the ceiling.

He took up Regis' vacated chair and tossed his crutch over the foot of the bed—Reina was too short to need that part, anyway. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at the tile floor because he could only stand looking at her like this for so long.

Cor didn't usually talk to people. Gods knew he was no good at that. He sure as hell never wasted time talking to no one at all, but _shit_. There were so many things he wanted to tell her; now he was afraid he would never have the chance. Something about the quiet room and the knowledge that she was never going to remember this pulled the words out, anyway.

"I'm sorry I let this happen."

Fuck the fact that Regis and Clarus and everyone else were just outside the door. Maybe she _was _aware of something. She was sure as hell aware of Regis trying to take the ring back. So if she could hear him, somehow, then… Well. He was dropping this here, either way.

"I know you don't think I did anything wrong. But it _is _my job to protect you. Even if you don't think you need it." His knee hurt. He ran his hand over it unconsciously and continued. "Even if it wasn't—even if you had never summoned me for this and chosen me to accompany you… this would still be what I _need to do_. For reasons I can't explain, I need to protect you."

She neither moved, nor gave any indication that she heard him. Why was he doing this anyway?

Cor shook his head.

"I could—_should_—lie and say it's just my place. I protected your grandfather and your father and now… but it isn't. And it isn't only now, Gods damn it. When Drautos—" Shit. Everything that slime had touched was now tainted. Cor swallowed the taste of bile and continued. "—when Drautos said you were in danger with only one Kingsglaive at your side a few weeks back, I went myself because I could never trust anyone else with your safety. I should have been the one who went in the first place. Maybe then, you wouldn't have gotten—"

He stopped himself. Self-pity was getting him nowhere.

"And now… well. I don't understand what happened any more clearly than anyone else. But you were only gone for a day and you came back ten years later. You're all fire and fury… and I've never seen anything like it. You would have taken care of that riot in the city yourself without your Kingsglaive guard or me or anyone else, but I would still be at your side—if you will let me… I would always be at your side, if you will let me."

"Cor…"

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice. Her eyes were still shut, her chest still rising and falling at that same steady rate. He might have imagined it, but—

"Reina?" He shifted—pain shot up his leg—and sat on the edge of the bed to take her hand in his. "Can you hear me?"

He held his breath while he waited for some sign, some confirmation—anything to tell him he hadn't imagined the whole damn thing. Which would be worse? Knowing she had heard every stupid confession he had just made, or knowing she hadn't?

He couldn't decide.

She didn't speak again.

Cor sighed. Just a wish playing tricks on his brain. He squeezed her hand and prepared to move back to his chair.

She squeezed back.

He froze.

"You can hear me."

It was stupid. Stupid that he said it, stupid that he thought it, stupid that he wished it.

She squeezed his hand again.

He lurched forward and gathered her up in his arms as hastily as he dared and as gingerly as he could. He leaned over and cradled her against his chest. She was so _small_. It was easier to forget when she was commanding the Lucii, dispatching daemons, and single-handedly winning the war against Niflheim in one night. Now she lay motionless in his arms and it was impossible to forget that she was over a foot shorter than him and half his weight. Small wonder he had impulses to protect her.

Reina's head tilted toward his and he could feel her breath against his ear. Intentional. Probably. Probably not, but he wanted to believe.

Cor held her as long as he dared. Then he pressed his lips to her hair and let her go as gently—more gently—than he had gathered her up in the first place. He still wasn't certain if she had heard him or not.

But he knew, at least, that he wanted her to.


	5. Reina, Questioning Everything

_Day 4:_

She had woken up.

Was this… real?

The cold marble beneath her bare feet felt real. The smooth glass of the mirror felt real. Father had felt real.

But so had everything else. Everything for ten years.

Ten years.

The face staring out at her from the mirror wasn't her. She dragged her hands over her cheeks; she could feel them, see them in the mirror, but it couldn't be her reflection. Her skin was clear and pale, with barely a hint of those twisting scars that had once covered her whole body. Her eyes were blue: true blue, not that ice-whitened blue that they had bleached to. In spite of the four days she had apparently spent unconscious and abed, her face was fresh, her cheeks full, her eyes bright.

Had she ever been so young?

It had been a Dream. It had all been a Dream. Ten years and so many regrets undone. She should have felt happy about it. Instead she felt lost.

She drifted through her shower, hardly feeling the pound of the hot water against her skin. Was it her skin? Was this her body? It was awake—she knew this was awake—but somehow the last ten years seemed more real than the past few days. More real than right now. It couldn't be possible. Father alive. Insomnia saved. Had she truly done all of that?

The face in the mirror looked no more familiar when she wiped a patch clean of fog. A little cleaner, but no more like her than it had before. She wrapped in a towel and left the bathroom for her father's bedroom. It was empty. The door to the lounge was closed, but beyond she could hear voices. Muffled.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows, the sun hung bright over Insomnia. She stopped by the window and pressed her hand to the glass. No buildings had fallen. At least none she could see from this direction. And the sun. When had she last seen it? Four days ago, likely, but those were really just a dream. The real kind, which turned fuzzy and incomprehensible as soon as she woke.

Insomnia. Whole and bright and populated by people—not daemons.

She tore her eyes away. No portrait in memoriam hung over Father's bed. No black and white roses. He was still alive and not some pile of bones in the basement.

The muffled voices outside the door moved closer and farther away. She heard Father and Clarus and Cor.

Cor.

Cor, whom she had once convinced to let her past that stony exterior, and then pushed him away. Cor, whom she had allowed to believe she was controlled by daemons. Cor, whose last words to her had been an apology for failing her, though he had never once done so.

She stepped toward the door but stopped herself. She was wearing only a towel. When she had lived in the Citadel, her rooms had been across the hall from Father's, but hadn't she stayed here? Had she kept clothes in Father's room? She must have.

She crossed to his wardrobe, pulled it open, and found, alongside a row of familiar suits, an array of dresses. Silk and chiffon and satin in black and gold, soft and delicate beneath her fingers, and inlaid with glittering gems. Was this how she had dressed ten years ago?

She backed away, leaving the wardrobe doors open. She couldn't wear those dresses. They belonged to someone else. Whoever she was now, it wasn't the girl who had worn these. She wasn't even the Daemon Queen anymore.

Or was she?

The crimson line of magic still ran from her to Ardyn; the Starscourge still lingered, cold and coiled up inside her, waiting for her to drop her guard so it could take over. Hadn't she commanded the daemons? Hadn't she used them?

But she didn't need to be that person anymore. She didn't need to push everyone away; she didn't need to sacrifice herself; she didn't need to rely on Ardyn's favor.

Then the question remained:

If she wasn't the Daemon Queen and she wasn't Princess Reina...

Who was she?

She was still sitting on his bed, wrapped in a towel, and staring across at the open doors of the wardrobe without truly seeing anything inside, when her father returned.

"Reina?"

She looked up. Father was standing in the doorway, as if no time had passed. It didn't matter that she had seen him an hour ago. She had watched him die so many times in the past ten years; this wasn't real

"You're alive." Her voice cracked.

"Ah, Reina, my little princess." He crossed the room to her in a few steady strides, hardly leaning on his cane, which he tossed onto the bed beside her before sitting down. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair. "I am, my dear. Thanks to you."

She clung to his arm, but her eyes remained dry. In all those years she had shed so many tears for him. She had none left. Everything was just cold and confused. Grief, but backwards. Maybe in another ten years, she would be able to believe he was alive even when he left her sight.

He held her for as long as she cared to sit leaning against him. And when, at length, she sat up, he looked on her kindly with a sad smile.

"Feeling better?" He asked.

"I don't know. I don't know what to feel. Relieved, but more confused than I can express."

"Well perhaps you would like to get dressed. I always find that an excellent place to start processing a myriad of impossible questions."

"I don't know what to wear," Reina said.

He should have told her how stupid this was. Instead he sat beside her and joined her in staring at the open doors of the wardrobe.

"It's like trying to put on someone else's skin and pretending to be them," she said.

"And what is it that feels natural?" He asked.

Reina shook her head. Nothing felt natural. The last ten years of her life had never happened.

They sat for a while in silence. He might have been actually looking at the clothes hanging in his wardrobe. She wasn't.

"My dear," he said at length, "I cannot tell you who you are now, but I can tell you that, over the years, I have known many Reinas: the one who frequently fell on her nose in the garden when her feet got away from her; the one who did not know how to tie her shoes and still insisted on doing it herself; the one who became her brother's voice when he refused to speak; the one who was the face of the royal family and ruled half the kingdom on her own—and every single one of them has had some core commonalities."

"What commonalities?"

"All of them have loved their brother and their father—"

"I still love you and Noctis."

"—All of them have loved the rain and had a penchant for playing in puddles—though I believe they all preferred the snow most of all."

Rain. Snow. Those had all ceased over the ten years of darkness. No living plants, save those in the greenhouses. No rainfall. The only precipitation she had seen in eight years had been what she created in the In-Between. She missed the hush of the world in winter, the patter of raindrops, the smell of wet pavement.

"Rain is nice," she said. "Snow is better."

"—All of them have chosen, without contest, a brownie over any other food available."

Food. A concept nearly as unfamiliar as precipitation. Had she eaten a brownie in ten years? Perhaps. There must have been a time when she had eaten readily and without coercion, but she couldn't remember it. And yet, for the first time in all those years, sweets almost sounded appetizing.

"Most of them have wanted to hit Cor with a practice staff at any given time—"

"Only because I hated seeing myself reflected so clearly," Reina said.

He paused, giving her a curious look.

"But I still want to hit him," she said.

He laughed, smoothed his hand over her hair, and pulled her into a sideways hug.

"And all of them have always been willing to fall back on one single clothing staple." He rose and crossed toward the dresser.

"What?"

He pulled something out and threw it at her—a long-sleeved, white T-shirt. The same kind he slept in.

Reina held it up in front of her, pressing the material between her fingers; it was soft and tightly-woven. Familiar and smelling of cedar and clean linen.

This.

This didn't feel like trying to be someone else.

She held it to her chest and smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"My dear, it is quite literally the least I can do. Now—" He moved back across the room and stopped in front of her, though he didn't sit. "—Are you hungry? Would you like to see the others? Cor has been waiting impatiently outside for the better part of an hour, but I fear I do not have a practice glaive on hand with which to strike him."

"I would like to see Cor—and everyone else. And yes, I'm famished."

Which was a strange sensation. Not the physical feeling of hunger, but the mental desire to actually eat.

"The second first: what would you like to eat?" He asked. "Besides a brownie. Or, shall I say, in addition to a brownie. Ah—"

"Curry—"

"Curry," he said at the same time. "See? Some things never change. I will have something brought up—in the meantime, whom, precisely, do you include in 'everyone'?"

"Cor—"

"Already awaiting you."

"Noctis, Ignis, Iris, Prompto, Gladio—Clarus, if he is well enough—and… is Ravus still here?"

"He is. As is Lunafreya."

Oh. Luna. Had she really told everyone that Reina wanted the Astrals dead, or had that been a dream? She owed them so many answers and scarcely knew where to begin.

"Them as well, I suppose."

Had she missed anyone?

Her father cleared his throat. "Your—I know not what to call him—associate? The imperial chancellor—has been haunting the Citadel halls since you fell unconscious. I daresay he has been waiting as well, but it is certifiably impossible to glean any information from him. Quite unsettling."

"Ardyn!"

"If he can be found, I shall have him brought here…?" He made it a question.

"He'll come regardless." He already knew she was awake. When she focused, she could just sense the subtle motion in the line that bound them and the shortening of the ties. "He's already on his way."

She caught the look of confusion on her father's face but he said nothing.

"I will explain everything once everyone is assembled," she said.

"There is no need—if you do not wish to elaborate or if you are not ready to speak of it, no one shall hold that against you," he said gently.

Oh to lock everything away and allow it to pass, unknown. But they deserved to know. What she had done, what she had become—she had thought to die for those sins but instead she had been reborn.

"No," she said. "No, I need to explain everything. I need everyone to know."

He seemed to accept that and left her to get dressed—such as it was—and run a comb through her hair while he stepped outside. When she was feeling a little more comfortable in her skin, she followed.

The councillors and whoever else had been there when Reina had first woken were now all gone. Her father's private lounge now contained only two people: Clarus, sitting in a wheelchair on the far side of the coffee table, and Cor in one of the armchairs.

Cor rose as soon as she entered. "Your Highness—"

"Please don't call me that—it makes me think you're displeased with me," she said.

"Reina," Cor amended.

"Cor," she said.

Cor: years younger than she remembered him and yet exactly the same. He was holding all his weight on his left leg; a crutch leaned against his armchair and he left it there.

Exactly the same.

She took a step forward, then another, until she was half-running to throw her arms around his neck. It took a moment—had she ever hugged him before in this lifetime?—but he did hug her back.

This was what it felt like. This was what it felt like to have someone who would always stand by her. This was what it felt like to have Cor back.

"I missed you so much." A tear streaked down her cheek, against her will, betraying the weakness that she hadn't been letting herself feel for so long.

"I never left," Cor said.

They stood that way until the door opened again. Reina had long since forgotten that Clarus was in the room and that they were waiting for her father to return with the others. And food. She released Cor only reluctantly; her father gave them both a curious look, but ultimately said nothing. It was only the beginning of a long series of reunions.

One by one or two by two the others all arrived. She gave them each a hug; it felt like the first time she had seen them in so long.

Noctis, still just a boy and yet, somehow, more a king than she ever remembered him being before; Reina hugged him tight and fierce, remembering the last time they had been together before—standing on the steps outside the Citadel and saying goodbye for the last time. He had been torn apart to see her make that sacrifice for him; he hadn't understood that she wanted it so much more than anything else.

Ignis, whole and unscarred, exactly the way she remembered him from years ago. It was nearly as strange to stand before him as it was to stand before Cor. At least she had been able to say goodbye to Ignis and know he didn't hate her. But he still deserved better.

She hugged him and stared into his eyes. His eyes. Green instead of grey. And him, still so full of life and light; this was an Ignis who had never questioned his place in the world, never wondered if he would be able to do his duty. That made him feel farther away than he had once. Years ago, they had shared uncertainty. Now he didn't wonder anymore. He never had.

Iris, so bright—brighter than anyone had any right to be—was just a little girl again; Reina hugged her and tried to share a sliver of that light. She wouldn't have to grow up amidst darkness and daemons anymore, but all those nights they had sat on the rooftop of the Leville and just talked—or not—had never happened.

Reina even hugged Gladio and Prompto—it was nice to know she was just Noctis' sister to them again. They had never looked at her sidelong in disgust. They had never wondered whose side she was on.

She did not hug Luna, who regarded her stonily, but, after a long moment of consideration, she did hug Ravus. He had been dead for so long. She had never forgiven herself for not saving him while she had the chance. Once he regained enough of his composure to hug her in return, he patted her back awkwardly.

And then there was Ardyn.

Ardyn, waltzing in without invitation or admission. No one had let him into the upper levels and yet, there he was, all the same, as she had known he would be.

Of everyone, it was strangest to stand before him and know that he had none of the memories of her that she had of him. And it hurt the most. Everyone else had lost more of the bad than the good. But Ardyn…

He had never really cared for her. Not like Ignis had. But he had loved her, in his own way. He was passion and he was hatred, buried deep down beneath the smiles. And she had been there, where no one else ever had. And they had understood each other. For a time. For a time he had been everything she had. More than once he had been the only reason she survived until Noctis' return.

"Ardyn."

"Were you really intending to have a grand reunion without yours truly? How very unkind of you, little Dreamer."

Ardyn, at least, had never changed. "I knew you would come, regardless. You always could find me."

"Yes…" He gave her that curious, searching look—half-intrigued, half-puzzled. "Well you owe me a story, little Dreamer."

She owed everyone a story. It was going to be a very long one.

Before she could begin, Luna stepped forward. "Forgive the interruption, King Regis, Noctis, but you cannot understand whom you have welcomed into your home."

Her eyes fixed on Ardyn, who dropped into an armchair with an impassive smile.

"Reina has requested his presence," Father said. "And so he shall be permitted in our halls, Imperial Chancellor or not."

"Former Imperial Chancellor," Ardyn corrected. "Let's be fair. The little Dreamer has neatly dismantled Niflheim in a single evening. I expect I would find very little to return to, if I were so inclined."

"It is not his imperial allegiance I allude to, Your Majesty," Luna said. "This man is the heart of darkness on Eos. The soul of the Starscourge, and the reason why the plague has continued to persist for two thousand years."

Silence fell at her revelation. A servant crept in to deliver Reina's dinner. Reina sat down, lifting the brimming bowl of vegetable curry and rice, suddenly ravenous for the first time within memory. When had she last eaten, even in this lifetime?

"It is his death that the prophecy spells," Luna continued. "And his destruction that requires the ultimate sacrifice from Noctis. By his very nature, he seeks the death of all Caelums, but most especially of Noctis."

The bowl was too hot to hold in her bare hands. Reina drew the too-long sleeves of her father's shirt up to shield her skin from the heat. She could hardly recall the taste of home-cooked curry, but the smell alone made her mouth water.

"You may recognize him by another name, Your Majesty. In the history of Lucis, he is known as Adagium," Luna said.

"Adagium?" Noctis asked. "What is that, Dad?"

"A legend, nothing more."

"Oh, but I am so much more," Ardyn said.

"You see?" Luna said. "He does not even attempt to deny it. This man is a monster in disguise. The monster Noctis must vanquish if light is ever to come to Eos."

"Reina?" Father called her attention from her bowl of curry. It took her that long to notice everyone in the room was staring at her, waiting for her to deny Lunafreya's accusations. "Is this true?"

She swallowed a mouthful of hot curry—it was good, though not as good as Ignis used to make—and glanced around the room. They wanted her to explain, in a word, whether or not Ardyn was the monster at the heart of the scourge. They wanted her to say no and set all their minds at ease, or say yes and reveal the truths that had taken her years to uncover, understand, and accept. Neither response was true.

Ardyn was smirking at her across the lounge. He was just as curious as the rest about what she would say—though for a different reason. He still had only the vaguest notion how much she knew of him.

"The truth is more complicated," Reina said.

Solheim fell before her eyes. The wicked had wrought the Starscourge, oh yes. If by 'wicked,' they meant 'any who dare defy the Astrals.' That had been centuries before Ardyn's time. And yet they laid that blame at his feet as well. Perhaps Solheim had deserved their punishment, but had the rest of Eos? Had twenty-five hundred years of mortals across the world deserved to be punished for an event they knew nothing of? Solheim had all but passed out of remembrance. It was little more than a few shattered ruins in what was now Lucis and Tenebrae.

"The Astrals themselves made him as he is," Reina said. "They created the scourge."

A collective intake of breath followed her words.

"Impossible," Luna said, though no one paid her much mind.

"The full explanation is knit with my tale, so I would ask for some patience before we reach that point," Reina said.

They seemed to accept this; any objections or questions were tucked away with minimal fuss and everyone was seated in the central lounge. Reina finished off her curry while the others settled. She ended up curled comfortably between her father and Cor.

And she told the story.

They had left Insomnia without returning and so Insomnia had fallen. This was all distant, far enough removed that it no longer hurt to think about. It was more like recounting someone else's tale. And besides, it had all been subverted already. The girl she had been in those days was so different from who she had become that it no longer seemed like she had experienced those things at all.

The situation had changed in Altissia, but she had still been just a little girl trying to take care of Ignis because he reminded her of Father.

Luna had died. Ravus had died. Noctis had been trapped.

And the darkness had begun.

"Father always said a kingdom can't be ruled by only one person and a king can't survive alone. So I tried to build a retinue of my own. First Ignis—"

Even sitting across the lounge he seemed too close for comfort. She could feel the heat of his body, see every detail of his scarred face, taste his lips on hers.

"Who will it be, little Dreamer? The man who knows everything about you—your deepest secrets, your darkest desires—who embraces all of you, who can give you everything you have ever wanted…? Or the man who can't see what's right in front of his nose?"

Reina tore her eyes away from him and stared at her hands. It was only her imagination.

"Then Iris." Her voice trembled. Her eyes were drawn upward. She had to see. She had to know.

"I can't do this anymore, Rei." Iris shook her head. "I can't do it. I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore. If you wanna be some daemon queen ruling Lucis from the shadows then… just don't take anyone else with you."

Her breath caught in her chest. She hadn't done that. None of that had happened. It hadn't really happened.

"And Cor," Reina managed.

He was right beside her. He had loved her once, when he had believed she was still herself. Now he stared at her with that harsh, cold look on his face.

"If there is anything left of her inside… you tell her I still love her. And that… I'm sorry I failed her." He turned away, not even looking over his shoulder as he spoke the last words in an undertone, almost to himself: "I should have been stronger."

Hot tears streamed down her face. "It's still me, Cor… I'm still inside."

He never even looked back.

"Reina?"

Cor was in front of her. Too young to be real.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I never meant to hurt anyone but myself."

"What?" He asked.

"Reina, my dear, listen to me." Father's hands gripped her shoulders, turned her to face him. "That was not real. I know not what memories plague your mind, but they never occurred."

Father was real, not like he had been in the In-Between. She had always made him to look healthier. She blinked back tears. His thumbs smoothed over her cheeks, drying the ones that had already fallen.

"What—what year is it?" She asked.

His brow furrowed. "Seven fifty-six."

"Seven fifty-six," she repeated.

Seven fifty-six. The year Insomnia had fallen. But it hadn't. She was sitting in the Citadel.

The year was seven fifty-six and Insomnia had never fallen.

She tore her eyes away from her father. The lounge was full and all eyes were trained on her. Iris was only fifteen. Noctis was just a boy. Ignis could see. Cor didn't hate her.

"Perhaps it would be best if we concluded this another time," her father said—not to her, but to the assembled crowd.

Reina couldn't say anything. The whole lounge was overlaid by a foggy world where the sun never broke through the dark and everyone she had loved was dead or gone.

Ignis walked away. Iris walked away. Cor walked away.

"Please don't," she whispered. "Please don't leave."

Father's arms were her only refuge in that nightmare. Just like they had always been.

When she could see the lounge again, it was empty except for Father and Noctis. And it was growing dark outside.

Her eyes caught on the windows: the setting sun and darkening sky. Lights were on across Insomnia, even though they had never run power lines from Lestallum to Cavaugh.

"It's seven fifty-six," she repeated to herself. A mantra. "Insomnia never fell. The sun still shines."

It was harder to believe that last one when blackness was stretching across the sky, swallowing up orange and violet.

"Noctis." Father's voice rumbled in his chest, close and comforting. "Close the blinds and turn on these lights."

She stared at the purple sky until it was gone. Light filled the lounge and poured down the hall, chasing shadows from every corner. It was so bright she could nearly forget the outside world was dark.

"Reina…?"

Father was watching her even as she watched Noctis turning on every light he could find.

"I'm fine." The lie was so automatic. It was part of who she was—or had become.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "I believe it is time you were abed again."

Sleep. She craved it so much and couldn't have it. Not yet. Not until Noctis returned.

"Anything else?" Noctis was standing in front of the sofa.

It was seven fifty-six. She could sleep. Not the endless black sleep of death she had craved for so long. Noctis was here. Father was alive. Insomnia hadn't fallen. She didn't want to die.

But she was so tired. Was sleep supposed to fix that?

"I can't sleep," she said.

"You cannot?" Father asked. "Or you could not within your Dream?"

"It's the same thing."

"No, my dear, it is not. This you must see. And if you cannot, then you must learn to." He stood, drawing her along with him. "Come, my dear. To bed. Thank you, Noctis. I believe I shall manage from here."

The lights followed where they went. Down the hall and into Father's chambers, spilling over and illuminating lounge, bedroom, and bathroom all. She was still wearing only his shirt. She had nothing worth changing into even if she had wanted to.

Father pulled back the blankets on his bed. "Climb in, my dear."

"I won't be able to sleep," she said, but she did as he said anyway.

He tucked her in tightly. "Shall I leave the lights on?"

"Aren't you coming to bed?"

"In time." He lifted his eyebrows at her. "Though I thought I might not sleep in my suit tonight."

He withdrew, leaving her with a kiss and the lights all on, and closing the bathroom door behind him. She stared at the ceiling for a time, too tired even to close her eyes. The shower ran in the adjacent room. This was not the In-Between. This was real. This was awake.


	6. Regis, Facing Regret

_Day 4:_

Though he had made a point to tuck her into bed, by the time he emerged from the other room, Reina was sitting upright in his bed, staring at a phone. His phone, as a matter of fact. Gods only knew what had happened to hers. Likely it was precisely where she had left it when she had been trying to avoid him a few nights before: in her room, which she visited about as often as she left the Citadel. Which was to say, not at all.

Regis sat down on the bed beside her. She held the phone in both hands with the front-facing camera on, using it as a mirror to stare at her own face.

"Have you changed so much that you no longer recognize yourself?" He asked.

"I don't remember ever being so young."

That ten years had aged her sufficiently to call twenty unrecognizably young… Whatever had occurred must have been traumatizing indeed to render her senseless just from speaking Cor's name. She said she had died for Lucis. How many others had she watched die first?

"Have my eyes always been so blue?" She asked.

"Very nearly," Regis said. "Though they were a deeper blue when you were first born. You have your mother's eyes."

"I used to have…" She traced her fingers across her cheek, then looked sharply up at him. "Like you—" And touched his face, tracing the scar that curled around his eye. "But everywhere."

"The power of the ring does not come freely. Not even for a Caelum," he said. He was beginning to understand how those ten years had changed her face. How much had he aged in the first ten years after he had taken the throne from his father?

"I used to wish it would just kill me," she said.

Regis grimaced. "And now?"

"Now I… I have another chance to make things right. But I still can't believe it's real."

At first glance it seemed a non-answer. His phone went dark in her hands but she stared, still, at him.

"I believe I understand," Regis said. "During your Dream you lost all you would live for, and yet you lived on for some time, did you not? The hole inside you became a part of who you are. You have wanted not to live for so long, it now feels inescapable."

"Yes."

"And when you do let go, you wonder who you are without it."

"Yes." Her voice cracked. She looked up at him, a watery smile on her face. "No matter how terrible things became, you were always there when I needed a shoulder."

"How can that be?" Regis' brow furrowed. "If Insomnia fell in your Dream…"

She said nothing, simply held up her hand. On her finger lay the Ring of the Lucii, quietly inert.

But of course. Like every monarch before him, his soul would have been bound to the ring after death. Had he not sought his own father's council since his death? Even so, that was not what she described. He could speak to his father, but the soul was just that: a distant echo of the man that had once been, steadily losing his sense of a mortal life.

"I fear I do not understand. Once I had joined the Lucii, I should have been but a shadow of the father you remembered."

"No." She looked down at the ring. "I held you together. I can manipulate that realm—Noctis could, too, if he thought to learn—and so I made you a body and anchored your soul. You never lost your humanity like the others."

"My dear, that was very dangerous."

She smiled bitterly up at him. "Do you think I cared?"

"I do not mean for you, physically. I mean for your heart. You must have known that to save me as a person and have me at your call would make it impossible for you to let go."

"I knew." She looked away. "And I did it anyway. That's probably where everything went wrong. Or worse than it had been, in any case."

It was impossible to tell from her tone if she regretted that. She had given up her whole life because of his death. He should never have allowed her. Even his spirit after life should have known it was foolish to give her what she so badly wanted.

But could he really have denied her?

"I am so sorry, my dear." Regis he could hardly bring himself to look at her. "I have not been the father to you that you deserved."

It was a confession he had made to her more than once before. Each time she brushed it away. He had done a fine job of parenting her, she would insist, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, and quell his fears. For a little while.

"No," she said. "You haven't."

His heart stopped beating.

"You've looked to Noctis year after year while I followed along in your shadow, begging for your attention. I did everything you ever wanted before you even knew you wanted it. Just so you would smile at me. Oh, you thanked me, but you never stopped taking me for granted. I think, eventually, you realized you had done something wrong. It probably wasn't a good sign that I didn't want any friends except for you, that I never wanted any time for myself, that I didn't even have a single hobby. You knew it wasn't right but not how to fix it or what you had done wrong. But you compared me to Noctis and I looked competent and skilled, And you looked at me and saw me smile—because I never wanted anything except to be seen by you—and so you convinced yourself I was alright. I was happy, wasn't I? But happy doesn't mean healthy. An alcoholic might be happier if you give her a full bottle instead of taking it away, but should you, just because it makes her happy?"

In twenty years she had never spoken to him thus. He had always been perfection in her eyes. He hadn't realized until now how much he relied on her affirmation to convince himself he hadn't gone too badly astray.

He couldn't bear to look at her, but he needed to know what her face looked like.

It wasn't what he had expected. From her words, he would have guessed blame or ire would be on her features. There was none. She was tired and perhaps resigned. But her observations seemed to carry little more emotional weight for her than the fact that water caused plants to grow. Was that better or worse than the alternative? In twenty years she had never been angry with him.

Perhaps she had never been honest with him, either.

"No apology is sufficient," he said. "But you must have known how much I love you."

"I didn't. Not until the end. You always thought I would have a chance at life later and so you never pushed me to experience it early. I think you loved having me stay by your side and couldn't bring yourself to push me away and face losing me. I always told you that you were my best friend. I didn't realize until later that I had become yours. And in the end, when you realized I would trade places with Noctis, I had to beg you to follow through. I think you were ready to face that with Noctis—as ready as you could have been. You had twenty-five years to prepare yourself. But when it was me on that throne instead, you very nearly couldn't do it. Maybe you did love me more than Noctis. I don't know. But you did want me to live more than you wanted him to."

The last nearly pushed his eyes downward once more, but he fought back burning shame and met her gaze.

"You are my best friend, my dear. These days I spend more time with you than anyone else in the kingdom and not once have I come to regret that. If I could choose but one person to stand by my side, it would be you. Unequivocally."

She smiled. She shouldn't have. She should have snapped at him, walled him out, and walked away without looking back. But she smiled.

"I made that choice once, Father. I think it was the wrong one."

"For you it was. You deserve friends who will lift you up instead of dragging you down." It had seemed for a moment in her Dream that she may have had them. He could only guess what had happened, but she now had a second chance. "Friends like Ignis, Iris, and Cor."

Her smile faded. Her face darkened and she started through him rather than at him. "They will never accept me back."

Regis cupped her face in his hands. "My dear, I know not what occurred during your Dream and I am content not knowing if it pains you so. But it was a Dream. While real for you, those memories never occurred for the rest of us. Whatever transgressions you believe you made against your friends, they never occurred. And I know for certain that Ignis, Iris, and Cor would welcome you with open arms."

She managed to look at him, though only with great difficulty, as if tearing her gaze from some compelling sight.

"I'm trying to remember," she said.

"Good. Now I believe it is well past your bedtime."

He took his phone from her and tucked her back in. This time he laid down beside her; she would not wander off before falling asleep tonight. He meant to watch over her until she drifted off.

It did not take much effort for him to remain awake. Her words haunted his thoughts still.


	7. Ravus, Taking Sides

_Day 4:_

Ravus paced.

The rooms that he had been given as part of the diplomatic attache were still his, though the guest wing of the Citadel now contained only himself, Lunafreya, and the chancellor. As High Commander, he had been afforded enough space and luxury to be comfortable. Enough room to pace. Would they have given him the same now?

"You must see the sense in what I say." Lunafreya was sitting on the chaise lounge by the balcony doors. She sat stock-straight with her hands in her lap. A few strands of her hair had come loose and hung unkempt around her face. A tiny indication of the distress she felt.

"Lucis—all of Eos—is in danger by this man. If nothing is done, darkness will fall and we will not be able to hold it back," she said.

He swept past her, reached the far wall, spun on his heel, and walked rapidly back in the opposite direction. What he needed to do was ensure her safety. Two weeks ago he had held one of the highest positions in Niflheim's military. Now the emperor and the general were dead, and Ravus had personally destroyed half their Magitek army and the entire invading force.

It had seemed the best way to keep Lunafreya safe. Reina had Dreamed that if he remained with the empire, only catastrophe would ensue. But what happened now that Lucis held all the power?

"Ravus, please, listen to me."

"No. You listen to me, dear sister." He stopped abruptly mid step and turned to face her. "That this man calling himself Ardyn Izunia is evil and should be destroyed goes without saying. But you have not grasped the situation. The power dynamic of Eos had shifted. Whereas one week ago you were a princess slated for a political marriage and protected by my status, we are now one step above prisoners of war. The empire has fallen, or so nearly that it makes no difference. Those who held dubious allegiances in the first place have already fled. It is only a matter of time before we are forced to choose a new side or be branded as the enemy."

"Noctis would not allow that to happen," she said.

"Don't be asinine. Your fairytale prince has turned his back on you. You have defamed his sister and that he will not stand for."

"He's conflicted, but he will make the right choice, in the end."

Ravus clenched his jaw until his whole head ached. He opened and closed his fists, fighting the urge to shake some sense into her.

"The Astrals no longer rule Lucis. The _King of Light_ does not rule Lucis. Not even that—" He hesitated. During Daemonfire Night—as the locals had named it—King Regis had shown himself to be slightly less useless than Ravus had always believed. He amended his word choice. "Not even King Regis rules Lucis. It does not matter who sits the throne or wears the crown. It does not matter what the Gods have decreed. Reina holds the power. Everyone else has been reduced to a figurehead: a puppet whose strings she pulls. And you will never change her mind."

It was a sort of poetic justice. The little girl who had gone ignored in Tenebrae now pulled strings in a web that stretched across all of Eos.

"She is hardly capable of ruling herself," Lunafreya said. "Whatever nightmares plagued her sleep before this occurred, they have left her a broken woman. You saw the same as I upstairs."

Here she had a point. It was difficult to reconcile the woman he had danced with five nights ago with the one they had left upstairs, incapable of telling a story for the pain it caused her.

But was he so different? It was simpler to hide away beneath a hardened exterior when no one spoke of the past.

"Unsettled memories does not imply incompetence. She has all but single-handedly destroyed Niflheim. She holds the power of foresight. If you make an enemy of her, nowhere on Eos will be safe for you. Whatever fool notions you have, abandon them now. Mark my words, dear sister. Reina's wishes will become law."

"But I can change Noctis' mind," Luna said. "And together we could stand against his sister."

"Do these words cross your mind at all before they exit your mouth? You have as much chance of convincing Noctis to kill Reina as Reina has of convincing me to kill you."

"But you would stand against me, if you thought it was for my own good."

Ravus' fists tightened at his sides. "I will do whatever it takes to protect you."

"Why is it so unreasonable that Noctis would do the same?"

"Because your salvation spells her _death_."

And neither Noctis nor Ravus would ever let that come to pass.

Lunafreya fell silent.

"Or is there some plan you have concocted where she survives?" He pressed.

"No." Lunafreya said quietly.

"No," Ravus agreed. "Precisely how do you imagine this happens, _dear _sister? You join with the Astrals, smite the unholy, and—after you have destroyed his twin utterly—Noctis comes running to your arms?"

She dropped her gaze. It was unlike her to not think ahead. Perhaps all her foresight had been little more than the parroting of the Astrals' whims. Now that the Caelums had taken a sharp left off the highway, she had no more road to follow. No notion of what to do.

"For once in your life, you shall have to choose," Ravus said. "Who will you stand with? The Chosen King? The boy you've been pining after for twelve long years? Or the Astrals, as Mother taught you?"

Whatever it was that lurked behind Reina's haunted eyes, it was not in harmony with the Astrals. If Lunafreya's words were to be believed, Reina had admitted herself that she wished them all dead. And Ravus had heard her accusation along with everyone else upstairs. If the Astrals had truly created the Starscourge plague, could he blame her for that wish?

"That choice is impossible…" Luna's voice quivered. With a start he realized she was crying.

Ravus sighed, dropping to his knees in front of her and taking her hands. "It is time you learned that not every choice is straightforward and simple. Everything you hold sacred, everything you believe in, can be ripped from your hands before your very eyes. Make the impossible choice: your duty to your king, or your duty to the Gods."

"And if I should choose to stand against Reina?" She asked.

Ravus fixed her with a blank stare.

"The looks you cast her have not gone unnoticed by me," Luna said. "Nor, I think, by many others."

"That is none of your business." He jerked away from her, rising to his feet and moving toward the door.

"It is if you choose to stand against me!" Her perfect princess' composure slipped and fell.

He jerked the door open and stormed out before any more of his own control abandoned him.


	8. Noctis, Turning Away

_Day 4:_

Well. That had been… crappy. No other way to say it. They'd all been sitting around for four days waiting for Rei to wake up. If he'd thought she was different the first time, that was nothing to her waking up tonight. Noct had never seen her so scared before. She could hardly even speak. Usually it was him sitting in bed while she went around and turned on all the lights. And also that had been twelve years ago.

Hell. He didn't even know what to think about it. Dad had her and he'd do whatever he could, but what about tomorrow and the next day and the day after that? Whatever she'd seen in that Dream was going to keep following her around. What was he supposed to do? Fight nightmares of the future with his bare hands?

He left when Rei and Dad went to bed. He needed to walk and think. Or talk to Ignis. Or something besides sitting up there wondering what she'd been through that she couldn't even talk about. She'd seemed fine four days ago. Sort of.

He rounded a corner and nearly ran head-on into Luna.

"Noctis." Her eyes widened and she took a step back automatically.

"Uh. Hey."

"I meant to speak with you, if you have a moment…" she said.

Noct sighed. A week ago, if Luna had popped up out of nowhere and asked to spend some time with him, he would have leapt at the opportunity. Now he wasn't sure he wanted to listen.

"I'm not really in the mood… sorry." He added the last because it seemed like the right thing to tack onto the end. Not because he felt any sort of regret. Why would he? She had heard what her precious Astrals were up to behind the scenes and all she could do was claim Reina was lying or brainwashed or some shit. And before that she had tried to convince Noctis to stand with those same 'Gods' and let them kill his sister. Fat fucking chance.

"You have a great many things on your plate," Luna said. "But this is as important as your duty to Lucis—more so, perhaps. Your greater destiny transcends your duty to the kingdom. You are the King of Light. You must—"

"Sacrifice my life for the greater good?"

Oh yeah. Also there was that little detail that had slipped out tonight. For some reason no one had thought it was important to tell him before.

She hesitated. "We must all sacrifice for the good of the future."

So she'd known too. Just peachy.

"Did fucking _everyone_ know except me?"

"No… I believe it was a well-kept secret."

"Great."

"Noctis, please, listen to me—to give your life for the good of Eos is not the darkness you imagine. I, myself, expect to do much the same. The Oracle must summon the Astrals and form the covenants for the Chosen King—those rituals and the bonds formed will tax my soul to the limit."

"Oh, cool. So we were just supposed to die happily ever after, huh?"

"That is our destiny. And our duty."

"Fuck your duty. And fuck your stupid Astrals and their fucking destiny! If you want to kill yourself for them, you go right ahead. But I'm not gonna die on the throne for the same fucks who created the Starscourge."

"You cannot possibly believe—"

"My twin sister over someone I haven't seen in twelve years? My best friend—who happens to see the future—over someone the Astrals have been grooming since birth? Uh. Yeah. Sorry. But I do."

"She has been corrupted by the darkness, Noctis, you must see that. She took the Starscourge inside her—she controls the daemons and has made a pact with the scourge incarnate. You cannot trust her."

"Really? Because as I see it, Rei's _darkness _saved Insomnia. What the hell did your Astrals do when Niflheim was trying to kill my father and take my kingdom? Fuck all, that's what."

"The Astrals do not meddle in the affairs of humans—"

"Ri-ight. Unless it includes forcing us into a covenant and demanding my life. No thanks."

She wrung her hands. Noctis almost felt bad for a second. Then he remembered she wanted Reina dead—hell, she wanted Noctis dead too. Real healthy start to a marriage. Thank hell the treaty had already burst into flames. Had Rei to thank for that, too.

"The price of your life will buy peace and prosperity for generations to come," Luna said.

"Oh yeah? Then how come my sister just woke up from living that future so fucking traumatized that she can't even talk to her friends without breaking down?"

"Your sister is not a good person, Noctis. Perhaps she was once, but you cannot deny that she is different since she awoke. My brother tells me she threatened to kill me in cold blood if he did not protect your father."

That was news. Noct opened his mouth to deny it—Reina would never do something like that—and stopped himself. She wasn't the same Reina he had grown up with, anymore. That much was true. But it didn't matter. As he saw it, she was still trying to protect his life—and Dad's life and everyone else in Lucis.

"And you want her dead, too. So what's the difference? At least Rei doesn't want _me _dead."

"I don't want you dead, Noctis!" Tears built in her eyes. Noctis surprised even himself by not finding a single fuck to give for them. "If we could all live peacefully on this earth—if you could be seated on Lucis' throne and never have to fear the encroaching darkness—nothing would make me happier. But we cannot."

"I don't believe that. I don't know what else Rei saw, but I know I didn't die. _She _did. So I guess your Astrals' plan isn't so set in stone, is it? We're just going to find the other holes." And if there weren't any, they were going to make some.

She shook her head. A few of the tears broke loose and streaked down her face. "I cannot believe that."

"I guess you can't. They brainwashed you your whole life." Noct sighed and turned around.

And he walked away. He didn't want her dead, but he didn't want her standing on the opposite side, either. Why couldn't she just see what was right in front of her? It was so simple. So fucking clear.

But the Astral's had torn her eyes out and put little lenses in the sockets so all she could see was what they wanted.


	9. Ignis, Giving Counsel

_Day 4:_

It was uncommon enough for Ignis to have visitors to his rooms, let alone so late in the evening. This was, however, an uncommon night to begin with.

"Noctis." Ignis stepped aside and waved him in. "You look as if you could use a drink. I regret I have none to offer."

"Telling me you don't need one?"

"I'm certain I did not say that."

Noctis dropped into the one chair in the room, so Ignis perched on the edge of his bed, arms crossed over his chest.

"What the hell happened to her, Specs?"

"I wish I had an answer." It felt as if he should have. She had obviously experienced a future that included him. Somehow that knowledge made it feel as if he should have memories of those same ten years. Blessings be that he did not have any such recollections. Whatever had happened within her Dream had not been pleasant.

"I thought it was bad when she said she'd seen Dad die… and Luna and Ravus… and that whole thing with you and the Ring of the Lucii. But she just glossed over all that like it was nothing. Whatever made her crack was so bad it was worse than Dad dying."

"Or less familiar," Ignis said. "She had ten years to come to terms with those events. Whatever happened after must have been more fresh in her memory."

Noct shook his head. "No way she ever accepted Dad's death."

"This is all mere conjecture, in any case." Ignis sighed and shook his head.

"And what about you?"

Ignis looked up. "What about me?"

"She said she loved you, right?"

"She did suggest, on the way back to Insomnia, that there had once been something between us." As if he hadn't spent all the time since thinking about it. As if he didn't play those words through his head every waking minute. "Details are scarce, however, and we are missing a part of this story. Whatever happened after caused her to look at me as if I had personally removed her heart."

"Yeah, well…" Noct ran his fingers through his hair, picked up a paper off Ignis' desk, glanced it over, and dropped it again. "You still like her?"

Ignis cleared his throat, averted his gaze. He had been rather transparent in the events following Reina's Dream, hadn't he? Not that they had truly discussed matters before now.

"I do," he said.

"For how long?"

Ignis glanced at him, then away. "Long enough."

"Not really an answer, but okay." Noctis stretched out in the chair, tilted his head back, and stared up at the ceiling. "What do you think about what Luna and Dad said?"

"About Adagium? I have encountered such tales in my studies, but was given no reason to believe them anything more than that. Adagium seems to have been a sort of royal family Bogeyman: the threat one feeds to princes and princesses when they will not behave."

"Yeah. Well. Thanks for not trying that one on us."

"Quite," Ignis said. "I saw no need for such things. In any case, this man who calls himself Ardyn has not denied any of Lunafreya's accusations. At least not in any direct fashion. He implied there were lies woven with the truth, but was not surprised to be called Adagium, nor to be branded as the soul of the Starscourge."

"Do you think… it sounds crazy, but do you think there's any way Luna could be right? That he could have corrupted Reina or something?"

"I have no notion what that would even entail," Ignis said. "I suspect the answer is hidden away in the story she cannot bring herself to tell. Yet I cannot believe she would ever turn her back on the people she loves. Indeed, we have already seen evidence of that. Whatever else she has become, she is still on our side. Whatever side that may be."

"What do you mean?"

"Light and darkness has been blurred in her. I believe that everything she does will be in the best interests of you and the king. But I also believe her understanding of best interests could well be different than Lunafreya's understanding of best interests."

"Right…" Noctis wiggled his foot, tapping it against the side of Ignis' desk. "Well I trust Rei over Luna."

"As do I."

"But I'd rather she didn't spend any more time with that creep," Noctis said.

"Indeed. While Ardyn's true nature remains unknown to us, it is difficult to paint him as anything other than antagonistic."

"So we'll keep him the hell away from her. Maybe kick him out of Lucis. Niflheim can have him."

"I quite agree."

"But what do we do for her?"

"Beyond keeping this man from her, I suspect there is very little we can do." Ignis paused and for a time they both stared at their own feet. A thought snaked into Ignis' mind. "Why did Her Highness stop playing the violin?"

"What? Cause of Dad," Noct said.

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Well she stopped doing those recitals way back because Dad never came. She kept playing, though. I guess she stopped for good after that whole thing with the MT in Dad's room because she stopped pretty much everything that wasn't related to taking care of him after that."

"I see," Ignis said. "She still has the violin, doubtless."

"Yeah, somewhere I guess. In the room she never sleeps in. Why are we talking about Rei's violin?"

"I wonder if she could not be persuaded to pick it up again. I suspect it may help."

"Okay, but she's gonna need more than a violin, right? No way you didn't see that."

"I would concur. However, she has only just awoken from what was apparently a highly traumatic experience."

"She woke up like a week ago and didn't have any of these problems."

"Yes…" Ignis braced his hands on his bed behind him. "It was as if she did not allow herself to truly think about what had happened until Insomnia was safe. This is mere conjecture, but I suspect she was driven on by something not unlike a fight-or-flight response and simple adrenaline. That she has progressed beyond that is, whatever else it may appear, a positive sign."

"Right." Noct sounded unconvinced. And with good reason. It was difficult to witness what had happened upstairs tonight and believe that was progress. "Gotta get worse before you get better, huh?"

"Something to that effect," Ignis said. "She has begun to feel the shock and face the trauma of all that occurred. All we can do is stand by and support her however we are able."

The rest went unsaid: that no matter how often they were present, no matter how heartily they supported her, she would never be the same young woman she had once been. Much as Noctis had never again been the same boy he was before the marilith attacked.


	10. Reina, With an Old Friend

_Day 4:_

Drautos' sword slid from her father's back. Blood dripped from the blade, disappearing on black tiles. Yet Father still stood for a moment, though his eyes went blank while fixed on the screen of his phone. Drautos gave him a shove. He fell forward without throwing out his hands or taking a step to balance himself.

Reina bolted upright, heart pounding hard against the inside of her ribcage. Her chest refused to expand. Her skin was cold and clammy, covered in sweat.

It was dark. It always was. But she was somewhere unfamiliar and outside the window she could see city lights. Impossible. No city had lights like that. It was a flagrant waste of power when everything coming out of Lestallum was carefully rationed.

The bed shifted. A hand brushed against hers and Reina jerked away automatically before looking down. Father. Her father, asleep in his own bed. She touched his cheek to be sure he was real. His skin was warm. His pulse beat in his neck. His chest rose and fell steadily.

It was seven fifty-six. Insomnia had never fallen. Father was still alive. Drautos couldn't stab him in the back because she had sucked out Drautos' life force and left his corpse to burn.

A tapping sounded from the window. Reina spun. There was no balcony outside her father's bedroom, but a person hung, silhouetted against the city lights, nevertheless. A familiar person. The only person who still felt familiar, besides Father.

She glanced back to make sure her father was asleep before slipping out of bed, careful not to disturb him.

The lounge did have a balcony outside. And, stepping out onto it, she found Ardyn waiting for her there.

"You owe me a story, little Dreamer." His voice washed over her, warm and soft like crushed velvet on her skin. But she wasn't that person anymore. She didn't need to seek refuge in his arms, however much she wished to.

"I couldn't tell it," she said. "Not while looking at them. For the last five years you've been the only living person who would speak to me."

"I'm not alive, little Dreamer."

"Nearer than Father was," she said.

"Touché." Ardyn swept his hat off his head and bowed. "Well, Father-dear is abed, and everyone else is gone for the night. Won't you tell your dear friend Ardyn the tale?"

Of everyone, he was the only one she wanted to know what had happened in those years. But she had betrayed him, in the end. She couldn't tell him the rest and leave that part out. He would know she was lying. But she needed him on her side. Eos was not safe. Her family was not safe. Bahamut still expected Noctis to destroy Ardyn and die on the throne. She couldn't let that happen. But she also couldn't take his place anymore, not when she had so much still to live for—though she forgot it was real more often than not.

"I'm waiting, little Dreamer."

Even though she had stood with Noctis, even though they had killed him, when it was all over, he hadn't blamed her. He had gotten what he wanted. And he had loved her, whatever that meant to him. For her part, she had loved him as well.

"You can share a person's memories, can't you?" She asked.

"Yes… though usually I corrupt and consume them first," he said lightly. He considered her. "You, however, may be different, little Dreamer."

He held out his hand to her. In her core she felt the tug of his magic and the stirring of the scourge. He wouldn't kill her. Not today. Whatever else he wanted in this lifetime, he wanted what she had offered him more.

She took his hand.

The Starscourge spread inside her, pouring ice through her veins and filling her head with cold thoughts. It was over in an instant, leaving only a brain-freeze ache in her skull as he released her hand. She staggered.

"Well, well, well. I admit you had my curiosity piqued with your hints, and the truth does not fail to impress." He laughed. She shook her head to clear it. He took her chin in hand and tilted her head up towards him, exactly as he used to do. "You. Loved. Me."

"After a fashion," she agreed. "I suspect you felt the same… after a fashion."

"And now?"

"I don't know what I feel now." She pulled her chin free of his grasp and turned away, leaning on the rail and staring out across the city. "I don't even know who I am anymore. I'll have to reinvent myself."

He followed. His gaze was hot on her face as he scrutinized her.

"You still feel it." He smirked, leaned back against the railing, and tilted his head toward the sky. "Oh, I _know _you, little Dreamer. You can't hide from me. To you, that happened a week ago. It's as sharp as the heroic Daemonfire Night."

"No," she said. "There you are wrong. It's much more sharp. Much more real to me."

He snapped his head back down to look at her and narrowly missed losing his hat to the breeze. "The future that never came to pass is more clear than last week?"

"Everything from waking up in the tent with Noct and the others until today feels like a dream. A real dream. The kind that, when you look back and try to recall details, they're hazy and uncertain. And you only remember it when something happens to recall it to mind."

"How very strange."

He didn't expect a response and she didn't give him one.

"Lovely as this little heart-to-heart is, now that I know your deepest darkest secrets, I wonder if we might discuss what you've promised me?"

Through the haze of memories she remembered clasping hands with Ardyn in the crystal chamber as he gifted his control of the Starscourge to her. It felt unreal, but the scourge was coiled up inside her. In truth it would have felt stranger not to have the scourge. Only now did she realize she had been holding the daemons out of Insomnia ever since that night. Now that she did think of it, she realized her reach stretched further, spreading out across much of Lucis.

"I'll give you a hint," he said. "It concerns my beloved brother."

"Did you really destroy his statue? Father said they could only find pieces."

"It was a fight to remember. Though I am disappointed he couldn't be hung out to dry and left to rot in a prison for two thousand years. But you've offered an alternative."

"Yes…" A memory flickered across her mind, fleeting, but she recalled the idea. "His soul is bound to the ring. When the Caelum covenant is satisfied and you are dead, all the souls will be released. But it would not be so difficult to ensure that his was released into an endless purgatory rather than the Beyond."

"You have my attention, little Dreamer." Ardyn's eyes gleamed. "What would need to be done?"

"There are two tethers keeping him here. The first is the ring, which is a purgatory of its own. The other is his tomb. I would have called his statue the third, but you have already destroyed that one. If he was cut from the web of the Lucii, he would be but a ghost—an echo of himself haunting his tomb. If that, too, was destroyed, he would be a formless consciousness, powerless in this world without ring or magic, but unable to pass on once the ring has been destroyed. The ring itself will be undone once the prophecy is fulfilled and the Starscourge destroyed."

He stared at her a moment. Then he laughed.

"Oh, little Dreamer, you are devious. I can see those years alone with me have heightened your natural good sense," he said. "Though I would have thought you unwilling to sacrifice your brother after all you've struggled for."

"I'm not going to sacrifice him."

"Yourself, then."

"No. I tried that already. It only hurts the people I love most."

"How, then, will you satisfy the prophecy and destroy yours truly?"

"I don't know yet."

"How unlike you." He leaned closer. "Why don't you Dream it?"

"You know why."

He smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile, but within it she found certainty and familiarity nevertheless.

"Because you might be stuck again," he said. 'Because you might live another ten years and wake to find they never occurred. And you fear that nearly as much as you fear losing Father-dearest."

"Yes…"

Living without Dreams—waking or otherwise—made her feel blind. But being lost was much worse than being blind.

He always had understood her better than she understood herself.


	11. Ardyn, Making New Plans

_Day 4:_

"The little Dreamer dreamed a Dream

And in her Dream she met the blight:

The darkest man to ever scheme.

He showed her dark and she saw light.

He showed her wrong and she saw right.

The little Dreamer dreamed a Dream.

And in her Dream she did betray

Til black as night ran her bloodstream.

She took his hand and ran away.

He took her hand and led astray.

The little Dreamer dreamed a Dream

And in her Dream she did defy.

The sun she bought with her last scream.

It was her wish to say goodbye;

Instead she woke to a retry."

He punctuated the last stanza with a cackle. The guards at the end of the hall looked at him curiously and then suddenly found something very interesting to stare at dead ahead.

"Oh, little Dreamer. We did have a ball, didn't we?" He turned a pirouette and bowed extravagantly to the guards as he passed.

It certainly answered a great many questions he had been pondering for the past week. In spite of the absence of that burning curiosity, he felt no inclination to walk away and proceed with his usual murder and mayhem. She certainly knew how to work temptation and manipulation. Even dragged through hell and looking thrice as poor, she managed to sink hooks into him.

Then again, she had spent years learning from a master. It really was a testament to his skill.

So she would set Somnus adrift in a personal hell that lasted for an eternity, would she? An altogether too appealing proposition. The catch, of course, being that he was rather required to cooperate with her until that time. Oh, he could threaten to take away her daemons and eat her people whole. But she didn't care about them, did she? She would keep Daddy-dearest and brother-Noctis safe and everyone else…

Well. Everyone else could go to hell, couldn't they?

He laughed to himself. It echoed down the hall along with his footsteps.

So. He would lose his opportunity to kill Noctis but, what did Noct matter when he had Somnus? Noctis was just a little boy in this lifetime. Oh, the little Dreamer had lived to see him become worthy of the throne, but she had stripped that from him regardless. The gods reached down to set the crown on his head and she snatched it out of their hands. How must that have felt for poor Noct?

Oh wait.

The only other thing she required of him was… what? That he die? That he give up this unending existence, this deathless life, this cursed purgatory? Oh dear. How very disappointing. However would he cope?

But there was one other thing before he could do that. Somnus in eternal purgatory was justice, but so long as Bahamut lived, the cycle would only begin anew. Did these people really think he would stop killing mortals and subjugating Caelums just because Ardyn was dead? Please.

No, he would simply have to die. But there were reasons Ardyn hadn't killed him already. Starscourge he may have become, but the Draconian was a presence to himself. With the little Dreamer on his side, however, Ardyn could do it. Had done it. So it only remained to convince her their goals aligned still.

That would be simple enough. She hated Bahamut nearly as much as he did. Future-hypothetical-but-destined-never-to-exist Ardyn had seen to that. And seen to it well. Of course he had. He never did things by halves. Then again, she was a broken little Dreamer with broken little dreams now.

Well. He didn't need her whole anyway. He only needed her full of hatred.


	12. Cor, Protecting the Princess

_Day 5:_

The royal lounge was uncomfortably quiet. Half of his Crownsguards were still in the hospital. The others were all over the city, helping put lives back together. Noctis had ruled that was more important than protecting the Citadel and Regis had agreed when consulted. So Cor was the only one left. Too crippled to help reconstruction efforts and too stubborn to stay in bed.

Well he wasn't a damn invalid.

Regis gave him a more important job anyway.

"I want you to stay with Reina. She will tell you she does not need to be looked after and you will disregard that."

He would have done even if Regis hadn't added that last bit.

"She is in my room," Regis said. "I have left her sleeping—I hope. She needs as much rest as she can take. I am expected in the city, so I must leave that responsibility in your hands. And Cor—do whatever you can to make her feel comfortable."

That wasn't really his specialty. Hell, the last time he'd seen her, she could hardly look at him. Right after she'd hugged him and told him she missed him. Still wasn't sure what had changed between those two things.

"I'll do what I can," Cor said, hoping he sounded as if that was more than nothing.

"Good." Regis clasped his shoulder and left. He was more energetic since the Wall had come down. Stronger. He limped less than Cor did.

So Cor was left alone in the empty lounge. He was tired of sitting, made to be on his feet. All this laying around and resting was bullshit. Yeah, sure, they said rest was the best thing for a bum knee, but he could walk it off.

He walked down the hall to the end, where the big double doors were conspicuous without a guard outside. He took up the post and stood there until she screamed.

The door was unlocked. He shouldered his way in and raced inside. His knee objected strongly. He told it to shut the hell up.

"Reina?" He stopped in the bedroom doorway, but only because from there he could see her sitting up in Regis' bed, eyes wide open.

She took a halting breath. He had just enough time to wonder if she was awake at all—the last time he'd seen one of those Dreams had been in Tenebrae, but she had looked awake when she wasn't—before she looked at him.

And tears began to fall. "Cor."

No daemons to stab. No MTs to decapitate. No burning Magitek ship to carry her out of. He was way out of his depth. How the hell do you fix a problem you can't hit?

"It was just a nightmare." She swiped at her cheeks, but the tears kept falling. Was she telling him or herself? "It's seven fifty-six. Seven fifty-six. Insomnia never fell. Father is alive. Drautos is dead." Herself. Definitely herself.

He hesitated in the doorway, not much good as anything but a substitute door. Distantly he registered that there was a proper procedure for comforting someone. Whatever that procedure was, it had not been part of the Crownsguard curriculum and no one had bothered to teach it to him.

After a few moments she looked up at him. "You're still here."

"You want me to go?"

"Yes," she said. Immediately followed by, "No. What year is it?"

"Seven fifty-six."

"What… what do you think of me?"

That first question had a real answer. But this one? What did he think of her? Sure hadn't been on any Crownsguard tests. He gave it a shot anyway.

"You're Regis' daughter. I watched you grow up and it's my job to protect you just like I protected him and your grandfather. Don't think we ever really got along before, but I always meant to protect you. Then you came back to Insomnia and tore the empire a new one. Saved my life. I fought next to you and not in front of you. I respect you. That's not usually something that happens overnight."

Two days ago sitting in this same room he had told her he would always stay at her side if she allowed him. Maybe even if she didn't. But she couldn't remember any of that. Could she?

She stared at him so long he couldn't remember if he had said anything out loud or if she was still waiting for an answer from him. His knee ached. Damn it.

"I'll stay by your side until I draw my last breath," he said. "Follow where you lead."

The only way he knew she heard him was because of the tear that ran down her cheek. At least he assumed that was what it meant. She climbed out of bed and crossed the room toward him. He let go of the door frame and inched backward in case she wanted out. Made a better door than conversationalist.

"Stay right there," she said.

He stopped. She came all the way up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest. That was a new thing she did since yesterday. He still wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, but she hadn't objected yesterday so he hugged her back.

Should he ask what the nightmare had been about? Or was it better to pretend it hadn't happened?

Why had Regis left him with this job again?

"You don't hate me." She said it so quietly against his chest he wasn't sure he'd heard it at all.

"The hell would you think I did?"

What the hell had she Dreamed? First she couldn't get farther than saying he'd been part of her retinue without breaking down and apologizing for something she'd never done. Now she thought he hated her? What the hell had _he _done in that Dream?

She shook her head against his chest. Couldn't tell him. Probably better that way, since he was in no way prepared to deal with what had happened last night.

It was a few minutes of them standing around like that. Eventually she pulled away, ran her hands over her face. There was a wet patch on the front of his shirt. It would dry.

"You want to go back to bed?" Cor asked without much conviction.

"No." She looked up at him. If not for the redness around her eyes, he'd have said she was never upset in the first place. All the emotion drained away just like that. Or was locked away. "I'll be fine. I just need to take a walk. Clear my head."

"Regis doesn't want you up. He said you need the rest."

"I don't do everything my father wants."

"I noticed."

"You're not resting, either." She looked pointedly at his knee.

Two of a kind, they were.

"Alright," Cor said. "You want to walk, I'll go with you."

This seemed to surprise her—shouldn't have, but it did—but she didn't object.

"You can't go walking around the Citadel like that, though," he said.

She looked down. Maybe she'd forgotten that she was wearing one of Regis' shirts and nothing else. It was a good thing she was so damn small.

"I suppose not," she said. "Maybe in my old rooms…"

She brushed past him and out the door into the hall. She led and he followed. That was how this was going from now on. If she didn't like it. Well. He didn't do everything she wanted.


	13. Noctis, Negotiating with Niflheim

_Day 5:_

The next morning didn't give much of a chance to talk to anyone, least of all Rei. Waking up in Ignis' room meant he didn't even have five minutes to sleep in before Ignis pulled him off to work on something. Rei was still upstairs. When Dad passed though, he said she was sleeping. Yeah, right. Had he met Rei?

Ignis let him have about two minutes to eat breakfast. After that they were working. Only five million things to deal with in the Citadel. No big deal. Dad went into the City to help out there.

It was early afternoon before Reina came and found him. Cor was trailing after her. He hadn't thought of Cor as the sort of person to trail anywhere. He'd thought wrong.

"Hey," Noct said.

She stared at him for a moment, like she wasn't sure if he had really spoken at all. Or was trying to remember what she was supposed to say.

"Hey," she said finally.

"Look at you: you even got dressed—is that _my_ shirt?"

She glanced down at herself. The black T-shirt was way too big on her, but she had tied it off at her waist so it hung just above the waistband of her jeans. Those _weren't _his, but he didn't remember them being hers, either. How many closets had she raided before noon today?

"None of mine fit," she said.

"That doesn't make any sense, Rei." Yeah, maybe it had been ten years mentally but her body hadn't moved from that tent. He knew. He'd been there watching it.

For a long while she just looked at him. He couldn't tell what the hell she was thinking anymore. Before, he could just look at her and guess. Now she was like a statue and sometimes he couldn't even tell if she was still his sister underneath. She'd lived half her life without him. He'd lived his whole life with her. So they weren't twins, anymore. He still loved her. Some days he just wanted her back the way she had been, but that wasn't fair to her. Had she sat around wishing he'd go back to how he'd been after that thing with the daemon? Probably not. She always took him how he was. He was going to do the same thing for her.

"Prince Noctis—" Ignis popped up out of nowhere. At least nowhere Noctis could see. "Ah—Your Highness." He bowed to Reina.

Her face had been blank before. Then it was… something else. No idea what, just something uncomfortable. Then it was blank again.

"Ignis." She acknowledged him with a nod like Dad used when he was being polite.

Ignis tore his eyes away and turned back to Noctis. "I have just received word that Niflheim is waiting to speak with Lucian royalty."

"Waiting?" Noct asked.

"On the line, so to speak."

"Dad's still out in the city," Noctis said. "Probably won't be back for a few hours."

He glanced at Reina and shrugged. "Guess that's just us, then. You wanna take point, now that you're up? Always were better at this sort of thing."

"No," she said. Immediate. Sharp. Not like all her other responses that seemed to come across a great void between them. "Lucis should never be mine. Not least of all because I never wanted it. But primarily because I am not a fit ruler."

"Whatdya mean? Everyone always says you should have been Dad's heir instead."

"Maybe I should have been. But that was before."

Right. Before a week ago.

"A key characteristic of a good ruler is empathy," she said blandly. "Father cares for his people and wishes to protect them. Perhaps you'll feel the same."

"But not you?"

"I care about seven people in this world. I could not care less what happens to the rest. They are nothing to me and if one stood in my way I would cut him down."

"Right." Noctis was staring at her. So was Ignis. So was Cor.

What the hell had she Dreamed?

Ignis cleared his throat. "Your Highness, Niflheim—"

"Yeah, yeah. Niflheim. Did you want to come along?" Noctis asked.

"I'll observe," she said.

"Right." He stared at her for a second longer. Something about the matter-of-fact way she said she'd kill anyone who disagreed with her if she was in charge chilled him. He believed she would. Maybe Dad had made the right choice fifteen years ago. Maybe Noctis would be a better monarch than her.

Whatever she'd seen in that Dream, whatever she'd lived through, it had turned her into a mess. But it had happened to her. He couldn't love her any less for that. He refused to love her any less for that.

"Right," he repeated. He slung an arm around Reina's shoulders and dragged her along after Ignis. Cor followed like a giant, looming shadow.

Ignis led them through the halls of the Citadel. It was still weird to have people bowing to him everywhere he went. After twenty years he should have been used to it, but it was worse in the Citadel and for some reason it was worse since Daemonfire Night. Like he was in charge or something. The worst part was he sort of was.

Specs took them to a small lounge on the floor with all the government offices. Two Crownsguards stood outside. One had his arm in a sling, the other wore a bandage around her head, but both bowed to Noct and Reina as they entered.

The lounge had an empty desk, a pair of leather armchairs, a short leather sofa, a coffee table, and a big TV on a wall mount. Some imperial's face was plastered on it. Noct only knew it was an imperial because he was wearing a uniform and had a great big Niflheim flag hung on the wall behind him.

Also he looked like a creep.

Aside from the imperial on the screen, the only person in the room was one of the royal council. Noct couldn't remember what her name was, but she bowed to Reina and Noctis.

Right inside the door, Reina split away from him. She walked an awkward path around the perimeter of the room to the far side and stood right next to—almost behind—the screen. It took him that long to realize she was keeping off camera. Couldn't think why, but whatever. Noct was already standing in the middle of it.

"Your Highness," said the councillor, gesturing to the screen. "This is Imperial Minister Verstael Besithia."

The name sounded familiar but he couldn't remember why. Probably not important. Probably was, but too late to worry about it now. You didn't ask your Royal Adviser who people were while you were already on camera. It just Wasn't Done. Besides, wasn't Ignis supposed to tell him who he was talking to before they got to the room? It was time to break out the whip and chains.

Or… just learn who people were.

Nah.

"You must be Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum." The imperial—Besithia—had an ugly sneer.

"Crown Prince, actually." Noctis stood front and center. "What can we do for you, Imperial… Minister… Besithia?" He made a point of sounding like he was reading off a card. Firstly because the first thing anyone who knew Noctis did when he walked into a room was assume he had no idea what was going on. Usually they were right, but hey, play it up, right? Secondly because if he had been reading the name off a card it was because so-and-so wasn't real important. Otherwise Noct would have known who he was.

Never mind the fact that Noct had started paying attention to politics all of about three days ago. Okay five. Whatever.

"General Tummelt reports that you have numerous imperial officials in your custody, including—but not limited to—Chancellor Izunia, High Commander Nox Fleuret, General Glauca, and the emperor himself." Besithia drew himself up and puffed out his chest. "Is this not so?"

Huh. Guess the news that Drautos and the emperor had both become toasty Sunday roasts had not been part of the information that got back to Niflheim. Could be useful.

"First off, General Glauca is actually Titus Drautos, and that son of a bitch is—" was "—a Lucian citizen."

Noct glanced at Reina. She raised both eyebrows at him, nodding once.

"We have the others, though," he said.

Sure, one of them was a crispy critter in the morgue and the other two were voluntarily hanging around for some reason no one could really figure out, but they were all definitely in Insomnia still.

"In that case, we issue an ultimatum: deliver the hostages to us or we will crush Lucis."

Noctis couldn't stop the snort of laughter. It came way too fast. Sometimes he wished he had Rei's talent for keeping everything buried way deep down. Then again.

"Sorry, I think the connection must have skipped—I could have sworn you said you would crush Lucis," Noctis said.

Besithia looked none too pleased. Either because of the laugh or because Noctis talked like a normal person and not like he actually had a crown. Well he didn't. He'd thrown it away after Ignis dug it out and put it on his head a few days ago.

"That is the ultimatum, Prince Noctis."

"Ri-ight," Noct said. "And uh… what army were you going to do that with? Because I could have sworn you sent yours to Insomnia a few nights ago and how much of it came back?" He paused, looking off to his right where exactly no one was standing. "What was that? None?" He looked back at the camera. "None of it."

Noct sure hoped Besithia wasn't holding anything important. It was probably broken if he was.

"So let me tell you what we're going to do instead. You're going to demolish all of your Magitek facilities and stop producing daemon-clone hybrid soldiers and whatever the hell that monster you dropped on us was. After that, you are going to get all of your soldiers out of Lucis. Pack up. Go home. Party's over. Lucis won the war. Because if you don't we're going to kill your emperor."

Okay. Look. Sometimes you have to lie to get what you want. Basic fact of life.

But hey. At least Noct wasn't making idle threats like some people around here. They could kill the emperor. Could have. If they hadn't already.

"You—!" This time he did snarl. And sputter. "You don't have the authority to make such demands! I will speak with the King of Lucis or I will not speak at all."

"That's great, 'cause I am really done with this. Specs, turn this guy off. You got two weeks, Besithia. After that we'll return your emperor. Or his head. Maybe the body. Definitely not attached."

He had the pleasure of seeing a spark of fear on Besithia's face before Specs cut the call.

Ignis was looking at him like he couldn't decide whether to be exasperated or really impressed.

Reina just had a little smile on her face. She came and hugged him. Her whole body was tense like a stretched cord. But he hugged her back and a little bit of it drained away.

"Don't tell me you thought I was going to mess that up," Noctis said.

"I had confidence in you," she said.


	14. Reina, Keeping to the Shadows

_Day 5:_

They spoke to her. Eyes followed her and never once averted. They saw her, though she kept to the shadows, and they didn't even seem to regret it.

Why?

They should have feared her. Instead they seemed to care for her. No one cared for her. Not even Ardyn—for all he put on a good show, he wasn't capable of what most other people called affection. She had Father, of course, but he was just a ghost.

They passed by the mirrors in the long gallery. Reina averted her gaze too late and caught sight of her face. And she stopped.

No scars.

She traced her fingers over her smooth, unmarked face. Blue eyes stared back at her.

"Reina?"

Her distraction attracted Ignis' attention. He had no scars, either.

It was seven fifty-six. The ring had never marked her or him. She had never told him that she loved Ardyn more than she loved him.

"Is something amiss?" Ignis glanced at the mirror, then back at her. He didn't see what she did. Or he did, but he'd never seen what was underneath and so it didn't mean anything to him.

"No," she said. "I'm fine."

"Is there anything I can do for you? You know it isn't necessary for you to be down here at all. If you wished to rest…"

"No." She wanted few things less than to feel consciousness slipping away from her and be swallowed up by blackness, where all manner of horrors awaited her.

"Specs, come on!" Noctis called from down the hall. "You alright, Rei?"

"Fine," she said automatically.

"If you should need anything…" Ignis said. He glanced over her shoulder at Cor, nodded, and turned on his heel to follow after Noctis.

Cor wasn't subtle when he approached. If he had been trying to slip beneath notice, he was doing a poor job of it. No matter how hard he tried he was still limping on that knee. Her fault.

"You shouldn't be following me," Reina said. "You should rest your knee."

"Sure. As soon as you get some sleep."

She sighed. "Very well. Let's go."

Whatever she said, she was thankful for the company. Even when she managed to escape everyone else's notice, he reminded her that they didn't hate her anymore. He didn't hate her.

They had been following after Noctis and Ignis for the better part of the afternoon. Her attention was called elsewhere.

She turned, dodging past Cor, and made her way down the hall in the opposite direction. It took some searching, but was by no means an impossible task. Clarus didn't move far from his office and so Iris didn't move far from his office. She found them, as expected, in the small conference chamber down the hall from the offices of all the councillors.

She let herself in. Her appearance interrupted the proceedings and drew the attention of Clarus, Iris, and the two councillors with them.

"Your Highness," Clarus said. "Is something wrong?"

"No."

Clarus glanced toward Cor. Maybe Cor made some sign, because after a moment Clarus turned his attention back toward the table and revived the discussion they had been having. He was still bound up in a wheelchair. That wasn't her fault, Father had said, but if she had been in the treaty room to begin with, it never would have happened. Even now she could see Drautos throw him against the wall and pin him with his own sword, but that memory was from a Dream. Not real. The second part had never happened. Clarus was alive, even if she wished she could have done more for him.

Reina skirted the edge of the room and backed into the corner adjacent to the windows, which was untouched by the sunlight. Iris' eyes followed her, lingering for a moment longer than everyone else's before she forced her attention back to the meeting.

Reina paid no attention. It wasn't her kingdom and she didn't need to rule it. It was seven fifty-six and she wasn't queen. She would never be queen.

Instead she watched Iris. Iris watched Clarus, for the most part, listening to the conversation with only half an ear. She reminded Reina of another daughter of an ailing man. Had Reina ever been so young?

The discussion concluded when Iris said so. She pushed Clarus' wheelchair out into the hall, glancing over her shoulder when Reina followed.

"Hey, I remember those jeans!" Iris said. "I thought I lost those years ago."

Reina looked at the jeans. They were a couple inches too long in the leg, but they fit. In a manner of speaking.

She trailed wordlessly after Iris, who went where Clarus directed. This turned out to be back to his office, where he had a cot set up and a doctor waiting on hand. After delivering Clarus safely there, Iris stepped outside with Reina and Cor.

"So the king let you up, huh?" Iris asked. "Are you feeling better?"

She spoke casually, genially, like Reina had never willfully torn their friendship apart after years of faithful sisterhood. Perhaps because she hadn't.

"I… am fine." The lie came out too easily. More easily than the truth, which required her to think about things better left forgotten. Her whole life was a lie. Why should this be any different?

"You're a bad liar," Iris said.

Strange. She shouldn't have been. Not after years of doing little but.

"You let her talk to you like this?" Iris asked Cor.

"Told her not to lie to me," Cor said.

"And did she lie when she said she wouldn't?"

"Just said she'd try not to."

"Well don't lie to me, either," Iris said to Reina.

"Why does it matter?" Reina asked.

"We're your retinue, right?" Iris asked.

"Are you?"

"Sort of figured after we jumped on board an imperial ship chasing after you to kill the emperor and Drautos that we were in this together, whether you like it or not," Iris said.

Yes. That had happened, hadn't it?

"And we used to be anyway, right?" Iris asked.

"A long time ago."

She wanted to ask what had happened—Reina could see the question in her eyes—but she didn't. Reina wasn't sure she could have said it if she had asked.

"Well now we are again," Iris said. "Right?" This last she directed at Cor.

Reina looked at him.

"Right," he said. "And you don't get to choose this time."

Later that night when they returned to the upper levels, Noctis, Ignis and Father joined them for dinner, making a point to set aside the kingdom and take time to sit with her. A strange feeling—and one she didn't have a name for.

"Your Highness." Ignis caught her gaze across the table as he salted his meal meticulously. "I wondered if I might make a request of you."

Father cleared his throat, voicing his disapproval without a single word. Reina glanced from him back to Ignis.

"What is the request?" She asked.

"It has been several years, by my counting, since I last heard you play the violin. Would it give you any satisfaction to play for us?"

Whatever request she had expected, this was not it. Even Father was taken off-guard by Ignis' words. And though his disapproval shifted to acceptance, Reina felt a strong reticence take hold of her soul.

The last person she had played for was Ardyn. After his first request, some five years ago, she had played not infrequently in the darkness of the Citadel, with Ardyn and his daemons as her only audience. To play was to bare her soul. She might have agreed to play lifeless notes from a dry sheet of music, but the result would have been flat and uninspiring. One who requested to hear a musician ply her craft wanted the experience, not the sound. Yet he had no notion how personal the request was.

The mere thought of lifting her violin and shouting her soul from on high for all to hear sent a shiver down her spine.

"No," she said. "I think not."

"Ah." Ignis' face fell. "My apologies. I was out of line."

She said nothing, neither confirming nor disputing the statement, and the topic fell from conversation.

That night she peered into her closet to check that the violin was still where it had lain for years. The case was dusted and neatly set in the back, behind her dresses. She shut the closet door on it, as if it were some monster lurking in the dark, before she fled to her father's rooms across the hall.


	15. Ravus, Searching for Reina

_Day 6:_

_Silver light filtered through the boughs above: a tree canopy so high overhead it was hardly even green anymore. The winter snows had melted, leaving the streams full to gushing. The chill lingered. It wasn't a day he would have wanted to walk around in, say, a dress. Like Princess Reina was._

_She climbed a boulder twice her height at the edge of the stream. After a few rough starts she managed to pull herself up to the top, where she stood looking around with distant wonder. Was Lucis so different that Tenebrae brought her such puzzlement? It must have been a cold place, what with how stoically she faced the chilly spring morning._

_She shivered._

_Ravus smiled. Or perhaps she was just a good actor._

"_Cold? It can get chilly out here this time of year."_

_She spun about, eyes wide, and lost her balance on the boulder. _

"_Careful!"_

_Drat. He should have known better than to sneak up on her and say something out of nowhere. He pushed away from his tree and managed to reach her before her footing slipped further. He caught her shoulders; she very nearly fell into his arms but he had her back on her feet in a moment._

"_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he said._

"_I wasn't scared. Just surprised." _

_Stoic to a fault, it seemed._

"_Well I didn't mean to surprise you, either." He smiled. "Are you cold?"_

"_No. It gets colder than this at home." She folded her arms over her chest, perhaps to hide the goosebumps rising all over. "Don't you miss hearing the cars?"_

"_Cars?"_

"_Don't you have cars?"_

"_Of course. We have several at the palace. But the roads are a long way off from here, and cars aren't all that frequent on them. You can hear the train when it comes, though."_

"_Trains are alright. But I miss the cars."_

_What a peculiar little girl. He could honestly say he had never met anyone quite like her._

"_You like the sound of cars?" He asked._

"_I suppose so." She didn't sound certain. But maybe cars were just a mark of home and she missed home._

"_My mother said I should show you Tenebrae," he said. "She said you might be lonely."_

"_Oh, I'm not lonely. Just… alone. You don't have to. Not if you don't want."_

"_But I do want," he said and it wasn't a lie. Odd she may have been, but it was a unique sort of oddity that only made him want to see more. "How would it be if I showed you our cars—and anything else you would like to see—and maybe you could tell me some about Lucis."_

_Reina brightened. It was the first smile he had seen from her since she and her family had arrived a few days before. Hopefully there would be more to come._

"_I think I would like that, Prince Ravus." _

_How formal! Her brother was laying in the flowerbeds with Lunafreya, already calling her Luna. Ravus had seen little of them but from a distance, but it was growing ever clearer that she was her brother's twin only in name._

"_Then allow me to escort you, Princess Reina." He held his arm out to her as if he were asking her to dance at a ball. Perhaps someday she would regard him as a friend instead of some distant guide._

Ravus woke suddenly and without apparent cause. He reached for his sword automatically, but the room was still and quiet around him. No cause for alarm was all the more reason to suspect. Nevertheless, he found himself lying back, arm still dangling over one edge of the bed, as his eyes drifted to the window.

The light in Insomnia was more gold than silver. And the forests here were all steel and concrete. It had a beauty to it and, though his heart would always belong in Tenebrae, there were reasons to breed familiarity with Lucis.

He climbed from bed, dressed, and went to seek those reasons. Since Reina had woken—in spite of his sister's missteps—he and Lunafreya had somehow passed beneath notice of the royal family. That was all fine and well up until someone remembered they were still in the Citadel and declared the Nox Fleurets an enemy to the throne. Solutions came to those who sought them.

Prince Noctis seemed to be in charge of a great many things these days. He was always about with a small cluster of followers shoving papers under his nose. King Regis was also in the public eye, doing—so far as Ravus could tell—much the same thing. But while he might have gotten answers from either of them, if they had been so inclined to speak with him, the one person he knew could tell him what he wanted to hear was nowhere to be found.

Reina was conspicuous in her absence. It took Ravus the better part of the day to track her down. After scouring every corner of the Citadel, interrogating every servant he passed, and nearly giving up in frustration more than once, he resolved to simply ask King Regis. If he did not have the answers Ravus sought, at least he could point him toward Reina. Surely he would know that much.

King Regis was simple to find. Everyone knew the king's location at any given moment. All Ravus had to do was swallow his pride and ask questions of a man he had long since condemned as worthless… and recently been given cause to doubt his beliefs about. He stepped into a darkened alcove out of sight to contemplate his options.

And he collided with Reina.

"Reina—" He was too shocked to be irritated that he had found her skulking about in the shadows after he had spent hours searching for her.

She held a finger to her lips and motioned toward the hall. He peered around the edge of the alcove; King Regis and his ever-present cloud of advisers were making their way down the hall. He had only a glimpse before Reina grabbed his coat and pushed him as far back in the alcove as he could be. She stepped in front of him.

White was, admittedly, not the best color to wear while hiding in shadows.

He held his breath. The voices grew closer. King Regis passed within a few feet of them and walked by without even glancing their direction. His company did much the same.

Once they had passed, Reina released Ravus and looked around the corner after them. Ravus joined her; it was simple enough to do, given that he could see over her head.

"Do you see that man with the white hair?" She whispered.

Presumably she was not referring to her father. "Yes."

"He has a network of informants across Lucis—perhaps farther—that Father knows nothing about. He is a spider in the center of a web. Were my father a slightly less shrewd man I have no doubt he would have long since become a piece of it. The woman on Father's left has a daughter about my age. She's been grinning like the cat that ate the canary ever since Noct and Luna's wedding was cancelled. The bald man has been taking bribes from various corporations across Insomnia for years—likely decades—to lobby for their businesses. The man with the glasses is of imperial decent. I haven't found firm evidence of collusion, but he has been looking pale recently."

"Why do you allow these snakes in your government?" Ravus asked.

"I never knew. I used to believe in good and see it everywhere I looked."

"And now?"

"Everyone is rotten deep down if you find the right spot. Every face we see is a facade. Nothing more. It's worse the higher up you go. The people surrounding Father are both corrupt and powerful. The servants, the Crownsguard, the people who live in the city… they are parasites, fed by the crown and the city and never thinking for a moment about anything larger than their trite little lives. They consume and consume, growing fat and greedy off the pleasures of prosperity. They don't care what happens higher up or lower down, so long as they can continue as they always have. If Niflheim controlled Lucis they wouldn't care, provided nothing changed. All they want is a smiling face to wave at the camera and tell them they can keep on consuming without thinking until the day they die."

"That is the way of people," Ravus said.

"It's disgusting."

"It is what it is. What would you do? You cannot change it."

"I could kill them all," she said flatly.

"A viable solution," he said, "If not for the fact that someone you love would object."

"More than one of them, I expect." She crossed her arms over her chest. "So I sit in the shadows and watch. When they pull a dagger on Father, they will find their throat cut before they can move a muscle."

"Noble," he said.

"No," she said. "Cold, ruthless, unfeeling, perhaps. But not noble."

The king and his retinue had long since rounded the corner down the hall. Reina slipped out of the alcove and followed. She kept near the wall and the shadows that had hardly been there before seemed to cling to her. He followed. If he took his eyes off her for too long he began to wonder if she wasn't just a shadow, herself.

She moved slowly, steadily. They rounded the corner and nearly caught up with the king. Those servants they walked past glanced at Ravus, but when their eyes moved to Reina's dark corner of the hall they seemed to slide off without sticking. She stepped into another alcove and Ravus followed.

"Have you been here all day?" He asked.

"No. I was nearer to Noctis this morning. And the gardens offer a suitable view of multiple Citadel entrances, as well as the Crownsguard headquarters and the infirmary."

Why either of the last two were important he could only guess. But if he had been the gambling sort he would have put money on someone she cared for being in both the infirmary and the Crownsguard headquarters.

"But you have been nearby the entire time I was searching for you," he said.

"Yes. You walked right past me several times."

Ravus made a sound of frustration. She held her finger to her lips.

"I was content to know where you were," she said, as if this explained everything. "Did you need me?"

"I wished to ask what you intend to do with us."

"Why should I do anything?"

"My sister has openly denounced your words and all but set herself against Lucis' royal family. You cannot expect me to believe you will let that go."

"If I had plans, perhaps she could foil them," she said. "But I don't. And I'm not in charge of Lucis."

"No? That is not what you told me at the reception dinner."

"My memory of those few days is admittedly hazy, but when we danced I was in charge of Lucis. Now it is safe and back in the hands of its rightful rulers." She shook her head. "Luna's fate doesn't concern me."

"Unless she directly threatens your family."

"In which case she will likely die before anyone can worry about what is to be done with her."

All the more reason not to allow Luna to make any stupid decisions.

"But for now I am to understand that we are entirely free?"

"Of course."

"And are permitted to leave at any time?"

"If you like," she said, unconcerned. "Though I don't know where you will go."

Niflheim's government was likely in shambles. History was being made here in Lucis. And there was one more thing…

"I believe I have pledged my service to you," he said.

"I would consider your service paid in full after that night," she said.

"I do not recall putting a price on my service," he said.

She held the future in her hands. He was high commander of an empire that likely would not exist for much longer. If he was to pay fealty to anyone, it might as well be the winning side.

Provided that side was led by Reina.

"I won't stop you, if you want to stay," she said.

"Then I stay."

It was the last time they spoke for several days. In those weeks that came after, as he carved for himself his own space in the Citadel in deference to the royal family, news flitted by his ears and stuck in his mind:

A man called Master Hamon was found dead in his study with no marks on his body. The serving staff whispered of poison and afterward it was considerably more difficult to gain access to the kitchens.

Someone on the king's ruling council was hospitalized with a strange and rapidly progressing disease. He wasted away within a week. Only after did people begin to whisper it was the Starscourge.

A great ruckus in the Citadel ensued when a former imperial informer was discovered and found fled from his dwellings. A few days later, rumors spread that he had been found halfway to Galdin Quay with his head cut off.


	16. Reina, Keeping Them Safe

_Day 21:_

Days passed. Each morning she woke, surprised to see the sun, amazed that Insomnia was still intact, and puzzled that those people she had pushed away so insistently still loved her. The memories didn't go away. They didn't fade or soften. Even as this world became more real to her, it took only an instant for a bad dream to become reality all over again.

One instant she stood speaking with Iris in the Citadel—offering up the wisdom she wanted that Reina never intended to use again. Iris touched her necklace: the coin had hung around her neck for ten long years. She always used to fuss with it when she was thinking about her father.

The next second Reina was standing in Lestallum in the dark, Starscourge clinging to her like a cloak, while Iris clutched at her necklace and shouted at her. Upset. Disappointed. Broken. Every word, every gesture, every motion played out exactly as it had. Reina's heart pounded against her ribcage and she was frozen. Everything she had felt then, she felt now. With one addition. This time hot tears streamed down her cheeks, dripped down her neck, and soaked into the front of her shirt. Just like before, she couldn't say a word.

"Rei! What's wrong?" Iris scrambled to pass her a tissue.

The year was seven fifty-six.

One instant she sat on a bench in the gardens. Ignis had stopped on his way to deliver a message and spoken with her for a time. She still expected his eyes to be colorless and scarred. To see them once more green and focused was a blessing.

But when he turned to leave, she was in her room in the Leville.

"I'm not alone," she had said.

"No. But you will be."

He didn't turn around once he had turned his back on her. He shut the door just barely too lightly to be called a slam. His footsteps sounded steadily down the hall to the stairs and faded away entirely. In spite of everything she said to him, she was more alone than she ever had been in her life. Just the velvet voice whispering in her ears, calling her to the darkness, telling her to let him walk away.

"Ignis, wait!" She pulled the door open and raced down the hall after him. She collided with his chest only a few paces down. He held her shoulders and looked down at her with green eyes. They stood in the gardens.

"I'm right here, Reina," he said.

The year was seven fifty-six.

Ravus walked down the hall toward her, leaving the Crownsguard training room with a few officers trailing after him, stretching their sword arms. His step faltered, his movement stiff and awkward as he shook out his legs.

And blackness stretched from a shadow on his cheek, taking over his face, his neck, his shoulder, and dripping down his torso and leg. His body melted and reformed beneath it. A horn burst from his skull, twisting upward, and he threw back his head and gave a cry, half of pain, half of rage, and all of it echoing with corruption.

"Reina?" He stopped in front of her, face clear, voice natural. "Is something wrong?"

The year was seven fifty-six.

When she emerged from the shower in the evening, Father lay on his back in the middle of his bed, motionless with his eyes closed. Though his chest rose and fell steadily, there was nothing inside. Roses cascaded, black and white, across his pillows and bedspread. The plaque below his portrait was dedicated to his life.

"Why do you care about a corpse?" A voice whispered in her ear.

She dropped onto the edge of the bed. His skin was warm, but that meant nothing. Just one more bribe Ardyn laid out before her. If only she could have believed what he promised.

Father's eyes opened when she touched his cheek. And he smiled gently up at her.

The year was seven fifty-six.

The Crown City only scarcely resembled what she remembered from her childhood. The buildings and streets were all the same. The faces, perhaps. Even the voices. But outside those few she held dear, everyone was changed in her eyes.

Once she had stood on the library balcony and admired the view of the city.

Now she looked out on Insomnia and saw a hundred thousand people who had no idea how much had been sacrificed for them. They wouldn't have cared if they had known.

They didn't deserve it.

She still couldn't stand watching the sun set. No matter how many times it rose again the next morning, that darkness that followed prompted unwanted recollections: Sitting atop the Leville with Iris; standing on her balcony alone, watching Lestallum skip and stutter as the same few seconds of her life repeated themselves.

She avoided the windows and stayed indoors after sunset.

Father and Noctis would gather upstairs after their days were through. For some reason they wanted to be near her.

In the moments she was lucid and able to convince herself the world around her was real, she dwelled on the Starscourge and Bahamut and what she had promised Ardyn. The promise alone would hold him for a time, but soon he would expect her to make good on her words. If Noctis was to survive, she needed Ardyn's cooperation. But how could she protect her family when she could hardly remember what year it was?

Two weeks passed in this fashion. As per Noctis' specifications, every MT soldier was withdrawn from Lucis.

Since they had complied with the terms of the arrangement—if it could be called that—they were understandably expecting a return of their people. Given that one was dead and the other two had no intention of going back to Niflheim, that posed something of a problem. Noctis addressed it by disregarding all further correspondence from Niflheim. It worked until it didn't.

"Your Majesty! We have reports of imperial ships approaching the Crown City!"

The words caused a stir in the throne room. Half a dozen conversations popped up in the council gallery until her father silenced them with a motion.

"Have they sent any word?" He asked.

"No, Sire. They seem to be maintaining radio silence, but reports suggest they are military transports."

From her place behind the throne she heard her father sigh. She could practically feel his exasperated thoughts for Noctis.

"Diplomatic relations are currently Prince Noctis' domain. Kindly inform him that this situation needs addressing immediately."

"Very good, Your Majesty."

Niflheim was attacking again. Noctis had listed in his ultimatum that they would destroy their Magitek facilities, but even if they had, they still would have had MTs left to them. How many? The Wall was down. She could build it again; her strength was largely recovered. And they had the Kingsglaive still at their disposal, but their numbers were reduced by nearly three-quarters and it had been less than two weeks since the last fight. MTs didn't need time to heal. Kingsglaives did.

It wasn't her problem. Father was right, this was Noctis' mess to clean up. Reina was in charge of nothing and meant to remain that way.

But it was her problem if someone got hurt. If Cor wanted to fight even though his knee still wasn't right and never would be. If Noctis went to solve the problem on his own. If Father thought he was strong enough now that the Wall was gone.

Niflheim needed to be destroyed. She could do that. If she could do nothing else, she could take lives.

She stepped into the shadows and became the darkness she had embraced. From the outside she was nothing save a black shadow of miasma creeping up the throne room walls. From the inside she was everything. She was the scourge and the scourge was everywhere.

It was, for instance, in Noctis' new, if makeshift, office where he sat with Ignis, still blissfully unaware of the situation. It was down Caelum street where Cor had been called along with several other Crownsguards. It was in Clarus' house, where Iris was busy packing necessities to bring back to the Citadel.

And it was inside the Magitek ships that approached Insomnia from the west. In fact, it was practically an epidemic aboard those ships.

She stepped into the shadows onboard, wrapping them around her like a cloak. The ship she leapt to was carrying several dozen MTs. It seemed Lucis' intelligence on the state of Niflheim's Magitek facilities wasn't entirely accurate.

"This is a tactically insane decision. We have no notion what awaits inside Lucis. They _destroyed _our entire army. They decimated the Diamond Weapon! Do you really believe we can defeat whatever force they have with these few soldiers left to us?" The voice was distantly familiar, but she couldn't place it without a face.

"You have your orders, Tummelt. Carry them out." That was Besithia. So the other was one Loqi Tummelt.

What luck. She had jumped on board the flagship on the first guess.

"They could have an entire _army_ waiting for us down there. They could have living statues!"

In the dark, Reina summoned her naginata.

The flash of violet light drew attention.

"What the hell—"

"It isn't the army you should be worried about," she said.

She sliced up with her naginata, finding satisfaction in the shocked look on Tummelt's face before his guts spilled out in a wet mess.

"It's me." The blade of her naginata slashed across Besithia's throat before Tummelt's body had hit the ground.

That was the snake's head removed. The last sliver of leadership that Niflheim had to turn to. But it would have been remiss of her not to destroy the scraped together shreds of their army as well. After that she could jump to Niflheim and make absolutely certain that this was the last of their MTs.

* * *

AN: Quarantine is a good time to read fanfiction. Just sayin'.


	17. Noctis, Talking with Reina

_Day 21:_

"What do you mean the ships came down? Like they landed?"

"No, Your Highness. They _came down_. In flames."

Noct looked from the Kingsglaive in front of him to Ignis beside him.

"An equipment malfunction, perhaps?" Ignis suggested.

"Yeah, sure. An equipment malfunction," Noct said. "Anyone seen Rei, recently?"

The Kingsglaive shook her head. Ignis shook his head. Prompto and Gladio both shrugged.

"Great," Noctis said. He pointed to the Kingsglaive. "If Dad asks, you guys took those ships down."

She looked real uncomfortable about that, but bowed anyway. Good Kingsglaive.

"Because if he finds out Rei went up there on her own he's going to find some way to blame it on me."

Okay, so maybe it was Noctis' fault. Sort of. But hey, the imperials were all out of Lucis, so he counted that as a win.

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Noct," Ignis said. "How could Reina possibly have brought those ships down on her own?"

"You tell me. You were in the last one she brought down."

Noctis fished around in his pocket for his phone and tapped Reina's number. She might not have even been carrying her phone. Sometimes she just left it in her room. No idea why, since she seemed so intent on knowing where everyone was all the time. But he tried anyway.

"That one began on the ground," Ignis said.

Rei's phone rang.

From the corner of the room.

Noctis spun around and found her sitting atop a pile of boxes in the corner next to the window, where there was never any natural light. She was watching him, but she still pulled her phone out of her pocket and answered his call.

"This seems an inefficient way to have a conversation," she said.

"Hell, Rei. How long have you been sitting there?"

She shrugged, noncommittal.

And how had she gotten in without him noticing? Or onto those Nif ships? And how had he not seen her before? None of it made sense.

He cut the call and dropped his phone back into his pocket. "What the hell do you think you were doing up there on your own? And how the hell did you get up there in the first place?"

She shrugged again. But this time he caught the quiver that ran through her. Noct sighed. Dad was going to kill him.

"Give us a minute, guys." He glanced at his friends and nodded toward the door. After a brief exchange of significant looks, they went, though Ignis stuck around as long as he could.

When the door shut behind them, Noctis went and wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff as a statue, practically vibrating with tension.

"Hey. It's alright. You got them. No more imperials. Everyone's safe."

It took a solid minute before she relaxed enough that it felt like he was hugging a person and not a lump of stone. She leaned against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and let out a breath.

"You wanna go upstairs?" He asked.

"I'm fine," she said. He couldn't decide if she sounded it, but her voice wasn't shaking or anything. In fact, it didn't have much intonation at all. "You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"I could tell you the same thing."

She didn't seem to have a response to that. Or, if she did, it wasn't one she was going to share with him.

"Look, you can't just run off on your own without saying anything or taking anyone with you. We do things together, remember? Twins?"

"I couldn't have taken you with me if I wanted to," she said. "How would you have gotten up there?"

"I don't even know how _you_ got up there."

"By paying a price you don't want to pay. Trust me. I'm the only one who can do what I do. And I'll keep everyone safe, so you don't have to worry about that anymore."

"What if I'm worried about you?"

"Don't be. I can handle it."

And he wasn't likely to change her mind, either. Some spot they were in.

"I'll try to make sure no one else knows," Noct said.

"Thank you."

"But Dad'll probably find out anyway."

Somehow he seemed to know everything that ever went on in Lucis. It didn't matter where or when, he found out about it. Maybe he'd pass the secret on to Noct some day. Crown Prince and all.

Or he'd just smile and say something cryptic like: 'when you know the answer to that question, you will truly be the king.'

Okay. So maybe Rei came by the whole mysterious evasion thing honestly. She wasn't so different. Cold and hard on the outside and broken inside, maybe, but she'd still spent the first twenty years of her life with them no matter what had happened after.


	18. Regis, Moving Forward

_Day 33:_

Days became weeks.

A slew of political deaths left his council of twelve three short. Hamon's untimely end may well have been attributed to Alnilam—who had, with little doubt, been an imperial informer, but it made very little sense. Why kill Hamon, of all people? Certainly, he was a dangerous man by his own right, but if political damage was the goal, surely an assassination attempt on Regis himself was more strategic.

And then there was Aldebrand, whose sudden and acute case of Starscourge might just have been called an accident, but wasn't. Coincidence was one thing, but the sudden death of one of Regis' councilors occurring while a man who was all but certainly the Starscourge incarnate walked the halls was another altogether.

Even if Regis had wished to take the easy path and blame both deaths on Alnilam, how was _his _death to be explained? A convenient streak of vigilantism in the Outlands? Preposterous.

Something was amiss and he couldn't even begin to sort out the tangled threads leading to who or why.

Reina was still a concern as well. Sometimes she was little more than a shadow about the Citadel. While Regis no longer had to urge her to leave his side to pursue her own interests, those things she did pursue on her own were not the sort of interests he had wished for. So far as he could tell, she drifted from room to room and floor to floor, cycling through friends and family alike to keep her eyes on each of them. He was reminded of the old tales of guardian spirits who watched over their families after life, though each time he thought of that, it left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. As if he had admitted that Reina as he had known her was gone.

Other times were worse. Small things would set her off, and results could be unpredictable: an overblown reaction that fit the situation not at all—tears and apologies in the midst of a casual conversation—or a sudden distantness as if the consciousness behind her eyes had drifted away temporarily. But if asked, she always said the same thing.

"I'm fine."

It seemed more a habit for her to state the lie than anything else. She couldn't have believed it and there was no possibility anyone else would either.

On rare occasions, she was both cognizant and open. These times occurred in the quiet evenings when the only people assembled were those she loved, and then only when they managed to avoid any motions, words, or topics that sent her tumbling into memories.

Some of these cues were easy enough to avoid: the servants were ordered to have all blinds closed and lights lit on the upper levels before the sun had set. Others were subtle and difficult to recognize, let alone prevent. It was, for instance, difficult to avoid walking away from her at all, but watching people turn their backs on her seemed to set her off more often than not. Still others were completely puzzling an unfathomable. Why should she dread the sound of Regis' phone ringing—his in particular, and none other—or refuse to make any calls of her own? He could only guess. And he could only do that when she was absent; no one wished to press the matter.

Only his worry for Reina prevented Regis from giving in to his guilt. Even so, the belief that he was to blame for all of this lingered perpetually in the back of his mind.

One month had passed since Daemonfire Night. Insomnia was slowly returning to normal. Repair efforts were well underway and, while it was still strange to have no Wall overhead after so many decades, people were growing accustomed to that. No daemons came in the night. No imperials beyond that first attempt a week prior, which had gone down in flames—ostensibly due to the Glaive's efforts, but Noctis was not a very good liar.

In fact, word was that Niflheim was devolving into a political mess. With no leaders left, factions had sprung up across the nation, each vying for control. Doubtless a new and troublesome emperor would emerge eventually, but for now they fought amongst themselves and left Lucis well enough alone.

Even so, that was but one foe defeated. Niflheim was not the only threat on their horizon; with the empire no longer looming over Lucis, Regis was free to turn his full attention to the doom that had lingered in the back of his mind for fifteen long years. The prophecy. Whatever they were to do, plans needed to be made. These were best done in Reina's absence—not because he had any wish to exclude her, but because some topics provoked unpredictable reactions in her. He suspected this may be one.

Instead, Regis called a private meeting with Clarus, Noctis, and Ignis. In practice it was difficult to keep Reina out of any particular room. She had a habit of appearing in places she had never walked into, not unlike the former imperial chancellor. Regis prevented this by putting Cor on her tail for the duration.

Once they were all assembled in Regis' office, he began.

"The situation, so far as I can gather, is this: Our family has spent over a hundred generations waiting for the coming of the King of Light to fulfill the prophecy and destroy the darkness. This darkness has long since been interpreted as the Starscourge, and I still believe that is accurate. However, Lady Lunafreya suggests the scourge itself is manifest in a man. Ardyn Iznuia, the former imperial chancellor.

"Under normal circumstances I would be disinclined to host such a person in my home. I do so, however, because of Reina. While she has said little on this subject, I have drawn some conclusions from what she _has _said, or has not said, in some cases. She has not, for instance, disputed Lady Lunafreya's description of Ardyn. But neither has she attempted to send him away. Quite the contrary. They appear close, and while that in itself is troubling, I am loath to deprive her of any comfort she might find."

"So we're just going to let him stay?" Noctis asked.

"For the time," Regis said. "From what little Reina has said, we can gather that the situation is more complicated than Lunafreya would have us believe. Furthermore, that the prophecy we have spent generations pursuing can, in fact, be circumvented entirely without all life on Eos being forfeit."

"Right," Noctis said. "Because Rei said in her Dream _she _died, but it was supposed to be me."

"Precisely. I have no notion whether it is possible to save both your lives and still banish the darkness, but I must believe it to be so," Regis said.

If not…

He had spent their entire lives on this prophecy. If not for those words, how many choices would he have made differently? How would Reina have grown up instead? How would Noctis have?

"Of course it is," Noctis said. "Reina said the Astrals _created _the Starscourge. You think they couldn't get rid of it on their own if they wanted to?"

"I doubt it is so simple," Clarus said. "Even on the subject of the creation of the scourge we have little knowledge. If only the princess could be convinced to impart what she knows…"

"Out of the question entirely," Regis said. "If and when she is prepared to speak of this matter, she shall do so of her own accord. Attempting to do so has already taxed her greatly."

"She might not even know." Noctis lowered onto the arm of the sofa. "Like, sure, she did it different from how the prophecy said in her Dream, but she still died. So did you."

"Indeed," Regis said darkly. "That she knows more than we do is undeniable. Whether any of what she has buried will be of any assistance in solving this problem is another matter entirely. I fear we are very much on our own."

A silence fell as each of them poured over their own thoughts, turning ideas over in their minds. At length, Clarus broke the quiet.

"It seems likely that this man—Ardyn Izunia—will need to be destroyed," he said.

"It does," Regis said slowly, "But we can make no move on that front until we are fully aware of his part in Reina's tale."

"What can we do, then?" Noctis asked.

"While all is mere conjecture at this point, I believe it is safe to assume we are preparing to face a foe far more deadly than the empire," Regis said. "To that end, if no other, I believe it is time for you to leave the Crown City, Noctis."

"What? Why?"

"Every king must take up his ancestor's arms to protect his kingdom. You are of an age. It is high time you sought this right of passage yourself."

"You mean I'll get an Armiger like yours?"

"Precisely," Regis said.

Eagerness showed on Noctis' face until it was overtaken by hesitation. "Do you really think I'm ready? I can't even make a proper shield."

Noctis' magic was, perhaps, less disciplined than it could have been. That, however, was more likely due to lack of proper motivation than lack of competence.

"This trip is an excellent opportunity to practice your craft. Remember: More magic makes your barrier stronger, but you must have a barrier to reinforce first. Throwing magic at the air does not a shield make."

"Right…" Noctis said. "What about Rei?"

"Traditionally the right belongs to the monarch alone, but I believe she has more than proved her worth. In any case, the point is moot. She is in a poor state to go with you. You should, however, take your friends."

Ignis looked up, having been a silent observer up to this point. "Your Majesty, forgive me, but you have tasked me with protecting both of your children. Is it your wish that I attend Noctis, though Her Highness has great need?"

"It is," Regis said. "In truth, Ignis, I fear there is little you—or any of us—can do for her at this time."

"She should not be left on her own," Ignis said.

"She will not be. But neither will she accept aid. She fights a battle with herself and until she is prepared to admit that she cannot win it alone, we can do nothing but bear witness."

Ignis dropped his gaze. "I understand, Your Majesty."

"Good," Regis said. "Then we are in agreement. Make your preparations, Noctis. You leave tomorrow. Whatever the future holds, we must be prepared for it."


	19. Ravus, Searching for Luna

_Day 34:_

_Luna and Noctis' giggles echoed down the hallway. Through his open door, Ravus watched them race past, Luna pushing Noct in his wheelchair. By the time he reached the door to look out, they were already gone around the corner. But the hallways wasn't empty._

"_Reina." Ravus smiled. "Aren't you going to play with them?"_

"_No," she said in that would-be casual tone of a child trying to hide her upset. "I don't think so."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Princess Lunafreya likes Noctis a lot. And Noctis likes having a new friend." She tugged at her skirt, looking down as she straightened her already-perfect dress._

"_And you're not interested in new friends, is that it?" He teased gently._

"_I don't think Princess Lunafreya is my friend."_

"_Why is that?"_

_She shrugged one shoulder, noncommittal. "She is very polite and friendly."_

_Polite, friendly, and yet still perceived as distant. Maybe she was. Mother had been filling Lunafreya's head with all manner of tales about the Chosen King and how Luna would walk beside him as the Oracle. It was her duty to ensure his destiny was carried out, Mother had said. _

_Not a word had been spoken about Reina: the second child without a glorious destiny or any fate of note. In fact, Ravus had been surprised when two ebony-hair children emerged from the car with the Lucian entourage. She stood in Noctis' shadow the way Ravus stood in Luna's. The difference was, he was at peace with it. Time had done that._

"_Come on, then." Ravus held his hand out to her. "That just means more time for us to read in the library. I seem to recall hearing that Cook had just received new spices. If we're quick, we can sneak some spiced tea before she chases us out with a broom."_

_He was gratified to see a smile on her face when she looked up at him. She swiped surreptitiously at her eyes, which he diplomatically pretended not to notice, and took his hand. _

_She would learn acceptance someday. It wasn't so bad being in the shadows._

Ravus woke to an empty room and lay staring out thround the tall balcony doors for a time. The taste of his dream was bittersweet, but he held onto it for as long as he was able, unwilling to let it slip away once more. Inevitably it did.

What he wouldn't have given to be waking in his bed in Tenebrae. To have been, once more, the boy who merely wanted to help. A fool, yes, but a happy one. Reina was still as stoic at twenty as she had been at eight, but there was something dark behind it. It was emptiness she hid behind now. Not strength.

He dressed and left his room to join the lounge adjacent. They had given Luna the room opposite from his, whether by Reina's suggestion or something else entirely, he could only guess. Regardless, it made his job of keeping an eye on her more simplistic.

Lunafreya was nowhere to be found; not in the lounge and not in her rooms beyond. Likely she had left on some fool crusade once again; it had yet to sink in that she could not simply walk around Lucis and tell people the princess was some corrupted puppet of the Starscourge. Even if it had been true, which it was not. Reina was too strong-willed for that and, in any case, he would have seen it when he had spoken to her.

He hastened to buckle his sword to his belt and made his way out into the hall. If he was to prevent her from doing anything more foolish, he would need to find her and close her back in this room.

The Citadel was impossibly large. It had seemed massive from the outside, but searching for a single person amidst the endless square halls was a fool's errand. Better that he seek someone more easily tracked. It was a small matter, for instance, to find King Regis when every servant seemed to know his whereabouts. He might have guessed that Lunafreya would go to Noctis, but Noctis had left the city. On royal family business, they had said.

He guessed, then, that Lunafreya might seek the king. Fool that she was.

King Regis was in his office. Neither the guards outside nor the king's attendant would answer Ravus' questions, but he was offered the opportunity for an audience with the king, which he accepted on the off chance that King Regis would have some knowledge of Lunafreya's whereabouts. If she was not with him, he had no notion of where else she would have gone.

He was led to the antechamber across the hall to wait for the king to see him. At first glance it was empty: simply a lavishly furnished lounge with a fresh tea tray on the coffee table. A second glance revealed one other person.

"Ravus." Reina stepped from the shadows; they seemed to cling to her like a cloak for a moment before melting away reluctantly.

"Reina."

Always where she was least expected. And perhaps most needed. She knew most everything that occurred in this castle—perhaps extending into the city, if she had any need to.

Standing before her now, for the first time in several weeks, strands of conversation and rumors in the Citadel came back to him. Three members of the royal council had died. How many had she pointed out to him in the hall? Four, but one had been trivial rather than dangerous.

"I hear you've been busy," he said.

"Lucis is safe," she said, her tone level—emotionless. "For the moment."

"You killed all three of them."

"Yes." She said it so simply and so matter-of-factly. He was taken aback. And yet, he could appreciate the simplicity of her solution.

"Why?" He asked. "Why not jail them?"

"It was a permanent solution with immediate results. All other options waste a great deal of time and make too many assumptions. Do you truly believe that a person can ever change who they are?"

A curious question, coming from a woman who had changed to a man who had changed. But she meant for the better. It was simple to go careening down a steep slope, muddying your good name and faith. To climb back up was another matter altogether.

Nevertheless.

"I must," he said.

She gave him a peculiar, searching look. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I should too."

They spoke no more, for a time. Reina stepped up to the windows and stared out over the city. Ravus joined her, struck by the antithesis of the moment. On a cool spring afternoon they had first stood together, staring out over Tenebrae. Now the heat of the summer day was tangible, even so early in the morning, as they contemplated the city skyline.

"What brings you to Father's study?" She asked at last.

"I seek Lunafreya."

"She isn't with him," Reina said. "But I was elsewhere early this morning. It's possible she has been to see him and left."

"She will do something foolish if left to her own devices here."

"She already has," Reina said.

His eyes narrowed. "More than I am aware of?"

"No. But she wishes for the prophecy to be fulfilled, which, in turn, means she seeks my brother's death. I'll kill her myself before I see her succeed."

"I know." Ravus sighed. Reina had no reason to like Lunafreya and every reason to dislike her. That line between like and dislike was where any sense of empathy in her disappeared. He hoped he was on the good side of it, but it was difficult to tell with her.

In the halls, he would hear whispers that she had changed. Perhaps that fact alone gave credence to Lunafreya's imagininings; if so, they were all fools. Whether she had changed or not he could not judge. Certainly she had changed since twelve years ago, but so had the world. Had she changed since waking from her Dream? He had no notion. Looking at her now, he saw no puppet. Merely a hardened woman struggling to protect her family from threats they hardly recognized. Broken underneath.

"Were we in Niflheim, I would simply have her placed on house arrest again," Ravus said. "But I have no authority here. No place."

"You are a friend and a guest of the princess, however far that stretches," she said.

"You are well-regarded among your people."

"Well-feared, perhaps."

"Feared? No. Within the Citadel, I sense only reverence for you. And some puzzlement. But never fear."

She turned to stare out the window, which looked out across Insomnia. The great expanse of grey stretched all around them: teeming with human life. He could understand why it would have been strange for an eight-year-old Princess Reina to find herself surrounded by the silver forests of Tenebrae now. But she did not look at the city. Or, at least, she did not see it. Her eyes fixed on no particular point without moving. Without focus.

"They all used to fear me," she said distantly.

She saw, perhaps, some world that would never come to be. A Dream world where her subjects feared and hated her.

"And you believe they will again?" Ravus asked.

"Perhaps," she said, eyes still unmoving. "Once they learn what I am."

"Better to be feared than fawned over," Ravus said.

She broke her gaze from whatever invisible sight it had fixed upon. She looked, instead, upon him. "Yes. I suppose it is."

A knock came to the door. "The king will see you now."

"I won't put Lunafreya on house arrest for you," Reina said. "I reject the authority to do so. But Father might. If you ask."

"Ask a favor of your father?" Ravus bit back his distaste.

"He isn't what you believe him to be," she said. "Just like you; he is greater than a flat perception."

She stepped back into the shadows and disappeared before his eyes. If she was still standing in the room with him, he had no notion.

He left, following after the attendant with her words still in his mind, and was led into the king's study: a simply but richly furnished room, where King Regis himself sat behind his desk.

"Commander," he said. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Ravus grimaced at the title. "Commander no longer. Niflheim is gone."

"So it is. What title would you prefer? Beneath Niflheim you were Lord Ravus following Commander, but by rights you are Prince Ravus and heir to the throne of Tenebrae. The empty throne of Tenebrae."

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in.

"I am no king," Ravus said. "And I have not been Prince Ravus for twelve long years."

Ever since King Regis had turned his back on Tenebrae and let it burn.

No.

Ever since Niflheim had killed his mother and forced King Regis to make a choice: the life and safety of his children, or an impossible battle against an army of Magitek soldiers. It had been no choice at all. There was nothing he could have done against that force. The best he could hope for was to protect his children—he had tried to protect Lunafreya as well. If she hadn't been such a fool, she might have escaped the cage they had both lived in since then. But she had stayed for Ravus.

Fool.

"Lord Ravus then," King Regis said.

It would do.

"I came seeking my sister."

"I regret I have no knowledge of her whereabouts. We have not crossed paths for several days."

Yet another waste of time. If he was forever chasing after Lunafreya, it tied his hands to deal with more important matters. The issue of the snake set loose in the Citadel, for instance. Ardyn might not have corrupted Reina in whatever capacity Lunafreya meant, but he was not to be trusted—least of all in Reina's sole company.

"Then I deliver a request, as Princess Reina has informed me she has no authority to carry it out," Ravus said. "I wish for Lunafreya to be confined to her rooms and under guard."

King Regis' brow furrowed. "For her safety, or that of others?"

"To prevent her from digging her grave deeper with the lies she insists on spreading."

"I see. Am I to take this to mean you do not agree with your sister's views?"

"I believe the former chancellor is a dangerous man who cannot be trusted. I believe he should be kept from Reina, for her well-being. It matters little to me whether he is the monster from horror stories as she claims, but I know Reina's mind is her own."

For nearly a minute, King Regis studied Ravus. At the end of this time, he appeared to make up his mind. "Then we are in agreement. I will have Lunafreya confined to her quarters on your request. And if you are earnest in your beliefs then we may have common interests to discuss, if you are so inclined."

"Common interests?"

"The matter of Reina's life, for one."

For all Ravus had spent the last twelve years of his life blaming his misfortune on this man, it was difficult to judge him as anything save shrewd when faced down by that stare. It was the sort of gaze that left a man wondering if he had any secrets that were unknown to the crown.

"I have a vested interest in Reina's life," Ravus said cautiously.

"I thought as much," King Regis said. "We will discuss these matters further when my son returns. I will have you sent for when the time comes."

It was a dismissal. One so succinctly given it left no space for alternatives. Ravus found himself turning on his heel and leaving before he knew what he was doing. Perhaps his assessment of the Caelum family as a whole was wrong. These were not people who merely happened to hold the throne and the fate of the world in their hands; these were the people who had been made tools of fate because they were best suited for the job.

Until they turned against it.


	20. Reina, Searching for Purpose

_Day 35:_

Noctis left.

"To seek his heritage," Father had said.

She watched them drive away from atop the Citadel steps. It was an unfamiliar sight. She had been in that car last time, while Father alone had stood on these stairs. But this was a new life. Or the old one she had never quite lived. She still couldn't distinguish the two.

It would take several days to drive across Lucis and accumulate the royal arms on the mainland, though less than before in the absence of imperial blockades and with the benefit of Father's directions. Several days she would be separated from both Noctis and Ignis. It should have meant little in comparison to years, but the time seemed to stretch on indefinitely.

She borrowed Noct's clothes while he wasn't there to complain. She thought to steal Cor's but he was twice as big as Noctis and four times as big as she was. Instead she borrowed some Crownsguard fatigues from their supply.

Iris made a valiant attempt to take Reina shopping for new clothes. That lasted little more than ten minutes into the first store, as Reina stood, arms crossed, and beheld the store patrons coming and going, clutching bags and screaming children.

"Hey." Iris nudged her. "You still with me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then stop worrying about whatever you're worrying about. We're gonna fix that, okay?"

"They're not thoughts you can fix."

"Try me," Iris said.

"These people are fat on life. Of course they work for their money, but it's worthless work, just like the gil they spend and the pleasures they buy. They don't know what goes into making this perfect bubble of peace they inhabit and they don't care. So long as they're always well fed, always entertained, always in the company of rich and attractive people."

"They're just people, Rei…" Iris said.

"And people are stupid, greedy, parasites."

"You're a person too, you know."

"And the only thing I care about is myself and preserving my own bubble of peace," Reina said. Such as her peace was.

"That's not true. You're trying to protect everyone."

"No. I'm trying to protect the people I care about. Why? Because _I _care about you. And I would be lost without all of you. I know. I've been through that already."

"But you're protecting Lucis also. You didn't just pull us out of the fire, you saved Insomnia and everyone in it. You're still holding back the daemons all across Lucis and keeping people safe from the Starscourge. That isn't selfish," Iris said.

"No? You believe that because you don't know my motivations. I saved Insomnia because it's mine. My home. My castle. My city, where everyone I love lives. I protect the people for Father, not for them. I couldn't care less if they died, but Father does. And in protecting you all, I also seek to protect your happiness."

After that, they had returned to the Citadel. It was for the best. Sometimes she wondered if this world she had woken up in was really the one she had fought so hard to save for ten years.

But it wasn't saved, even still. It wasn't right, for all she tried to make it perfect. She couldn't rule. She couldn't wield spectral glaives and cut back the dark. But perhaps there was something she could do yet.

"I want to try something, Father."

"Yes?" He always made a point of putting aside anything he was working on and giving her his full attention whenever she was aware enough to ask for it. Guilt ate at him, but she had no solution for that except lies.

"You aren't going to like it."

"You are making a poor argument."

She smiled in spite of herself. And once she had, she smiled wider still. He was alive. She was alive. Noct was still sentenced to death, but they had time. And knowledge. They could make an attempt. And an attempt was what this was.

Father was still waiting, hands folded and smiling gently up at her from his chair.

"Tell me, my dear," he said.

She did. And when she had, he sat silently pensive, staring past her rather than at her.

"You are right," he said. "I do not like it much. Nevertheless I do see the benefit."

She waited.

At length he sighed. "Answer me one question, my dear: in your estimate, is it likely that we will come into direct conflict with the Astrals in the near future?"

A question she had given much thought to, but still never come to a satisfactory conclusion on.

"I think so," she said. "I don't know how we could avoid it."

He nodded grimly. "Very well. We will attempt this plan of yours. But you are not to over tax yourself, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

"You are lying to me, Reina."

Why deny what they both knew was true? She lied so automatically she hadn't even considered what an honest response would have been.

He sighed. "You must stop this, Reina. I cannot begin to imagine what world you lived in where this is what you became, but this is not that world."

She said nothing.

He ran his hand over his face, sighed again. "Go and gather Clarus and Cor. We will do this thing now, if you are prepared."


	21. Regis, Regaining What Was Lost

_Day 35:_

As per Reina's specifications, they gathered the necessary people and went together to the crystal chamber. They made something of a dilapidated bunch. Regis with his cane, Cor stubbornly refusing one and limping as a result, and Clarus in his wheelchair, drugged to the teeth for the pain. And Reina… she was a shadow today. An improvement from some of her other days.

They gathered before the crystal; the room was oddly dim in the absence of the Wall and the power that upheld it.

"Are you ready my dear?" Regis asked Reina.

"Yes." Reina stared blankly at the inert crystal before looking up at him.

He could only guess at what lay beneath those placid features. Would she do as she had said and keep to the limits of her power? Doubtful. She would need to to be watched.

She stepped forward, lifting her left hand. The crystal flared to life at much the same time as the Ring of the Lucii began to glow. Strands of Reina's magic twisted from her through the ring to the heart of the crystal, calling forth power and forming a connection. White-violet light spilled from the geode to bathe them all, so bright Regis was forced to avert his gaze for a moment. And it only built.

She reached through the crystal to pull power and let it loose in the room. Not in a haphazard fashion; the magic that washed over them did so discriminately, welling around Clarus and Cor and, most especially, Regis. But he could not allow himself to become distracted. She would overstep her bounds if that was what it took, and the more magic that poured into the room the more he was certain it would be.

"Reina—!" Regis stepped forward, or tried to. His words seemed to catch in the magic much as his movement did. "This is too dangerous!"

She remained with her back to him, her focus on the crystal. Magic twisted around her and burned through her skin, leaving violet-white cracks across her arms. The light around him grew brighter and brighter until he could see nothing but light, feel nothing but light.

When it cleared, he was on his knees in the crystal chamber. Reina stood before the crystal, though the way she swayed on her feet implied she wouldn't remain there for long.

"Reina!" Regis lurched to his feet and sprinted the few steps to her. She dropped into his arms nearly as soon as he had reached her. He scooped her up in a princess carry. Her body was limp and motionless in his arms—too light.

"Little princess. Do not do this to me. Not again."

She tilted her head back. Regis held his breath. Her eyes fluttered open and swept across his face. Whatever she saw gave her cause to smile.

She reached up and touched his cheek. "You're so handsome, Father."

"I may never forgive you for this, my dear."

"I know. That's alright. Just live, like you were meant to."

Her head sagged, hitting his chest. Her hand fell away from his face.

"Cor." Regis turned around. "Tell me she is still breathing."

Cor only stared at him.

"This instant, Leonis!"

Cor lurched forward. He put all his weight on his right leg and didn't wince or stumble. His fingers probed beneath Reina's chin. Regis held his breath and shut his eyes.

"She's alive." Cor breathed. "She's alright."

"Then I may kill her myself," Regis said.

Cor stooped to run his hands over his previously injured knee. Clarus rose to his feet and tested his balance.

"I am taking this one upstairs." Regis shifted his hold on Reina and moved toward the door. "The two of you old enough to make your own decisions."

He swept out of the room, past the Crownsguards outside who took three extra looks at him while they tried to put the pieces together.

He left his cane on the floor in the crystal chamber.


	22. Reina, Meeting the Draconian

_Day 35:_

She reached out to the power dormant within the crystal, waiting to be called on by the King of Light. She hadn't been certain it would work for her.

But the crystal did not see or hear or feel. It only sensed.

And there was very little difference between the King of Light and his twin.

The light reacted to her command as it might have to Noctis'. It poured out and she shunted it around herself, channeling everything to her father and Clarus and Cor. She would fix everything.

Everything.

The next thing she remembered was his face, though not as she had ever known it to be. It was still his face—unequivocally, undeniably—but his skin held more color and more consistency. The scar around his right eye and across his forehead from prolonged use of the ring was gone. His hair was black at the roots—or so dark brown that even in the light of the crystal it was indistinguishable—and streaked with silver ribbons, which stood out stark and bright.

And he was holding her. Standing on his own feet, bearing his weight and hers.

He was worried and afraid and angry. But it was worth it.

It was all worth it.

She drifted in blackness for a time. And it was there that the Draconian found her.

_:O Daemon Queen. Adversary of Fate. Agent of Darkness. Thou fightest a futile fight.:_

He made her tiny: smaller than one of his hands while he towered in the spaceless In-Between. Distantly, she wondered if she could change his form like she had done for the Lucii when they attempted the same intimidation tactic. Better not to try. An enemy uncertain of your power is a lesser challenge. And she was so tired.

_:Thinkest thou that time can be unwritten?:_

He had human eyes beneath his helm. Or eyes made to look human. Perhaps there was nothing underneath his helm at all; the helm was his face, where his eyes sat sunken and eerily familiar.

_:Thou drawest power held in store for the Chosen King to prolong the life of a doomed man.:_

A doomed man, was he? By whose reckoning?

Perhaps if she persisted in her silence he would tell her on his own. Thus far it had worked in her favor.

_:The Usurper must be destroyed. Thou knowest this. The Chosen King shalt call upon the power of the crystal, bolstered by those who came before.:_

"Well, then, I suppose he'll simply have to wait several decades more, now that I've reversed your damage and killed your agent of fate."

If Father was meant to die then Drautos had been meant to kill him. If Drautos had been meant to kill him then Bahamut guided the fate of traitors and backstabbers.

And Eos had no room for those who sided with betrayers.

_:Heed me, O Daemon Queen. Time runs more fierce than thou knowest. If thou shalt not fall into the place carved for thee by fate, then thou shalt be forced into it.:_

He twisted the In-Between around them. Not content to let his words stand as a threat, he showed her in detail what would happen if she resisted fate.

A sword driven through her father's back, this one wielded by the Draconian himself.

Ardyn imprisoned, consumed by light, and burning away in the face of the King of Light's power.

Noctis pinned to the throne. The sword through his chest was one of Bahamut's.

Reina tore her way out of the In-Between and back into her body. She jerked upright, struggling to fill her lungs even as the air stung her throat.

"Reina?"

Her father's voice drifted through lingering visions. She had changed the future. She had changed it. But Bahamut would ensure their fate was unavoidable. Whomever she saved, he would kill.

Hands grasped her shoulders. "Reina. Look at me, my dear."

She blinked, shook her head, and her vision cleared. His face was in front of her—but not the same face she was used to seeing in her Dreams or any number of nights before when he woke her.

This one was younger. The face he should always have had at fifty.

She reached out to touch him. He was real. Solid. Restored.

A tear streaked down her cheek and he brushed it away. He gathered her up in his arms and hugged her more fiercely than she had ever known him to. She had done that. She had fixed everything. He had all his strength back from the damn Wall.

"Have you Dreamed?" He asked.

"No," she said. "Not really. I don't think it was the future so much as a threat."

Though if she did nothing, the threat would become reality.

"What do you mean?"

"Bahamut. He wants you dead. And Noctis too. He always meant for you to die when Insomnia fell and now I've derailed his plans."

"Then we shall have to adjust our plans accordingly." He gaze hardened. "I am very upset with you, my dear. But I am more relieved to have you safe and whole. And in truth I have no one but myself to blame for believing I could stop you before you did as I knew you would."

She had nothing to say to that. He had known she would do whatever was necessary to restore him and the others.

"Cor? And Clarus?" She asked.

"Both hale and healthy." In spite of his disapproval, he did allow her a small smile. "And grateful beyond words."

"I'm not going to get myself killed, Father. I promised that much already. I never want to hurt you."

"I was wondering if you had forgotten," he said.

"Never."


	23. Cor, Adjusting

_Day 35_

It wasn't that he had been resigned never to have full use of that knee again, but he had heard it enough over the last month that he had been beginning to believe that the rest of his life would be a struggle against both the knee and the doctors.

Now there wasn't even a scar. He had rolled his pant leg up to check first thing—or second thing, right after watching Regis carry Reina out and staring at Clarus who was standing as if his back had never been broken.

"How are you feeling?" Clarus asked.

"Fine." Cor pulled his pant leg back into place. "But I think I'll help Regis when he strangles her."

"He knew she would push too far," Clarus said.

And probably he did. But that didn't change the fact that she was a stubborn ass and someone needed to beat some sense into her thick skull.

Cor left Clarus to share the news with his stunned daughter and followed Regis upstairs. He sat in the lounge, waiting. Ran his hands over his knee, still expecting it to hurt. An hour passed. Then two. Cor began to pace and no one snapped at him for it. His knee didn't object. More than a few calls came through over the Crownsguard radio; he largely disregarded them. Let Clarus deal with the force. Cor's job was protecting the princess, before anything else.

It was around the fourth hour when Regis finally came out of Reina's room. His hair was all but black again; it had been decades since it had been so dark. His face was the same and not. The same shape, maybe. But his skin no longer looked paper-thin and pale. He had grown that beard to hide how hollow his cheeks had become; he could have shaved the whole thing off now. Regis had commanded respect and reverence since he was hardly more than a boy. But for the last ten years it had been increasingly due to reputation. Yet here stood a man who looked as if he could hold the kingdom on his back.

"She is well enough," he said before Cor could get a word out. "Not in the least contrite."

"Did you expect her to be?"

"No." He sighed. "If I know my daughter at all, she has wanted to do something of the sort for years. Perhaps I was foolish to grant her the opportunity."

"She would have done it anyway," Cor said. "If you try to deny her she'll just go around you."

"Yes…" Regis pursed his lips.

A month ago she had been the child who never disobeyed an instruction from her father. Now she did whatever the hell she wanted, regardless of what Regis thought about it.

"Can I see her?" Cor asked.

"By all means. I would not dream of keeping you from your charge."

It sounded like he meant something besides what he said. The smile emphasized it. Didn't matter. He had said Cor could see her, and that was what he meant to do.

Down the hall, rounding the corner toward Reina's rooms, Cor nearly ran head-on into someone else. Someone who had no business at all up here.

"And here comes the princess' lion! Look at him snarl: the fierce protector!"

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, much the same as you," Ardyn said, unconcerned. "Protecting my interests."

"Your _interests_? You've got no stake in Reina's well-being and you've got no business being around her."

Whatever else Lady Lunafreya said, no one was disputing that this man was evil. The Starscourge incarnate, she'd said, and he hadn't tried to deny it. His interests—whatever the hell he meant by that—included wiping out all life on Eos.

"Oh dear," Ardyn said. "I can see I'll make no progress here, against your narrow-minded views. Perhaps I've just come to kill everyone. Does that suit your beliefs better, Lion?"

"Get the hell out, or I'll remove you myself." Cor took a step forward.

Ardyn took one back, hands lifted. But he laughed. "Oh, I would love to see you try… some other time."

He turned and waltzed down the hall, turning the corner in the direction Cor had just come from. Cor followed after, to make sure he left, but when he rounded the corner and looked down the hall, Ardyn was gone.

How the hell…?

The only way to keep him away from Reina was to watch Reina. Watching Ardyn was pointless if he could take a step and disappear. If Cor hadn't believed he wasn't human before, he sure did now.

He turned and walked back down the hall to Reina's rooms, knocked twice on the door.

"Come in," she called from inside.

He pushed the door open cautiously. "Highness? It's me."

She was sitting upright and cross-legged in her bed, as if she had been in the process of getting up before she had been distracted.

"I know," she said. "Father doesn't knock and the servants tap."

Cor stopped in the doorway. "Regis doesn't knock?"

"I don't think it occurs to him that some doors don't belong to him. Though mostly people open doors for him, so on occasion someone will knock on his behalf. You can come in, you know. You don't have to stand in the doorway."

He stepped fully inside, but left the hall door open. There was a chair pulled up beside her bed, recently vacated by Regis, but Cor ignored it, standing beside her bed with his back to the wall instead.

"Did you come just to look after me?" She asked.

"Why else?"

"Why else," she repeated, as if in agreement. "Well, then I suppose you can accompany me to the kitchens."

"Hungry? I can send someone to bring something up for you."

She paused part way through climbing out of bed, as if this idea hadn't occurred to her. She'd lived her whole life being waited on hand and foot and it didn't occur to her that someone could bring her food on a whim. But the world had fallen apart ten years ago for her, hadn't it? There was probably a shortage of people eager to leap at her wants outside the Crown City.

Her motions resumed. "I'll do it myself."

And that was her, summed up in four words.


	24. Ravus, Forging an Alliance

_Day 40:_

"_Do you think my brother will ever walk again?"_

_Ravus looked down at the little girl holding one of his hands in both of hers as they walked together. They had come a long way from the day she wouldn't even admit to being cold or homesick._

"_I'm certain of it," Ravus said. "My mother can heal anything. She knows a great many things, you know."_

"_Just like my dad."_

"_Just like your dad."_

_He didn't see much of King Regis, except from afar and sometimes during dinner. Often he was with Ravus' mother or else closed up in his rooms with those other Lucians he had brought with him. Ravus could guess from scraps of conversation that he was still doing a fair job of ruling his kingdom from across the seas. Ravus' mother said King Regis was a wise man. And Ravus' mother knew everything._

"_So does Luna," Reina said._

"_That is also true. Mother speaks with her often to tell her all the important things she must remember."_

"_She told Noctis that he was The Chosen King Anointed by the Crystal." She said this as if reading from a card._

"_He is," Ravus said. But the mere fact that she had brought it to attention gave him pause. "Did you and your brother not know that?"_

"_No. Noctis is Crown Prince, which means that he will be king someday. But Father never mentioned anything about a prophecy or the darkness that the King of Light would chase away or anything."_

_And Lunafreya had been too caught up in explaining all those things she had learned to pick up any sign that perhaps she should not have been giving him this information. Oh dear. _

_They were only eight. Mother had been telling Lunafreya about her destiny since before she was old enough to understand what that meant, but King Regis, it seemed, had been taking a different approach. Perhaps there was wisdom in that. Two children raised side-by-side, one of whom had been chosen, were better off thinking themselves equal. Or more equal, at least._

"_Do I have a destiny?" She asked._

_He suspected that was much the question King Regis had been avoiding._

_He settled for the truth. It might not have been diplomatic and probably King Regis could have come up with a better solution, but it was the best Ravus could offer._

"_I don't know. Sometimes no one knows what we're meant for until it happens."_

"_Do you have a destiny?" She asked._

"_Not that anyone has bothered to tell me about. Since they've all been highly remiss, I decided to make one up for myself."_

"_You can do that?"_

_He shrugged one shoulder. "Why not? Better to choose your destiny then get stuck with something you'll hate forever."_

_She smiled at that. "What did you choose?"_

"_If it is Lunafreya's duty to guide the Chosen King then I will make it my duty to protect her." He shot her a crooked smile. "I was going to do it anyway. Might as well make it sound important."_

_Her smile deepened. Some of that self-doubt drained away._

"_Can I choose my destiny, too?"_

"_Absolutely. If no one is around to tell you what to do, it's up to you to make that decision. Just make it a good one."_

A heavy rapping on the door awakened him. Ravus lurched upright, reaching for his sword before recalling where he was. He rolled out of bed and picked up his sword regardless. He pulled the door open, half-dressed but armed.

A servant stood outside, unperturbed by both these things. "His Majesty requests your presence in his study this morning."

"I see." Ravus bit back a sneer. "And did His Majesty give a reason for this meeting?"

"No, my lord. Only that he wants to see you."

What did it mean for him to be allies with the King of Lucis? He had been prepared to bare blades alongside Reina—and he would still have done so—but he had never expected to come to any sort of genial arrangement with King Regis. A man whose priorities were so vastly different from his own that they could hardly exchange three words before disagreeing.

Or so he had thought.

"You may tell the king I will be there shortly." Ravus shut the door in the servant's face and turned to clothe himself fully.

Regis had chosen to protect his own family over all else. The decision itself Ravus could relate to: it was a motivation he, himself, subscribed to. But Lunafreya had always insisted on painting it honorably. By leaving them behind, King Regis had protected _the future_, she said. He had preserved the lives of all of Eos by fleeing Niflheim and leaving Tenebrae to the flames.

Fool. Did she truly believe that was why he had done it? What father justified the protection of his children with the lives of others? What father needed justification to protect his children?

And yet for years Ravus had believed as she did. That King Regis had acted for the _greater good_ of all of Eos. A greater good that did not include the life of Ravus' mother or the preservation of Tenebrae. The Gods' fate decreed that the King of Light would survive, but not Tenebrae?

Perhaps it was the Gods he should curse.

Lunafreya caught him on the way out. "Where are you going?"

The Gods and his fool sister. Yet he would still spend everything to protect her. Just as King Regis would spend everything to protect his children.

He turned away from her without a word, wrenching the hall door open and leaving her locked within on the king's orders. She cared not an inch for the arrangement, but she would never speak a word of objection. She would simply sit in stoic silence and pester him whenever they crossed paths.

This time when he arrived at the king's study, he was admitted immediately. He had expected, upon entering, to be faced with King Regis as he had known him these past weeks: an old man who struggled to walk but pretended he didn't. Instead he found King Regis as he had known him in Tenebrae. Or very nearly.

A younger man stood by the extravagant landscape windows in the back of the king's office. He wore the king's clothes. He spoke in the king's voice. He held the king's authority. And he turned to face Ravus and fix him with the penetrating gaze that Ravus had seen on the King's face but a week ago.

For a moment Ravus wondered if his dream of Tenebrae hadn't bled out into reality.

"Ah." King Regis glanced down at himself. "You are surprised by my appearance. I fear my daughter grew overzealous in her quest to protect all she loves."

It didn't answer any of the myriad questions Ravus had.

"I have invited you here because Prince Noctis is due back from the Outlands any minute, and I surmise you might be of assistance to us."

"I?"

"And we to you. As we have discussed, many of our interests align," King Regis said.

Ravus waited for the punchline.

"We would undo the prophecy that calls for the death of my son and—in conjunction with that—your sister."

"The prophecy says nothing of the death of my sister," Ravus said. He would know. He had heard it often enough growing up.

"Perhaps not directly. But it does imply that the King of Light will form covenants with each of the Astrals and that the Oracle's fate is tied to his. Who do you believe will awaken and harness the Astrals, if not Lunafreya?"

Ravus said nothing.

"The magic she would need to invoke is dangerous and highly draining. It is all but assured that she would not survive the process."

The words of the prophecy had been repeated countless times, first by his mother, then by Luna, until he knew them backward and forward. But never had he truly considered them. Not beyond the words themselves.

A knock came to the door. "Your Majesty, Prince Noctis has arrived."

"Show him in."

The doors swung open fully to reveal Noctis. He stopped with one foot in the room to give Ravus a critical look.

"Ookay…" Noctis glanced from Ravus to King Regis and his confusion only grew. "Dad? What the hell happened to you?"

"A long story." King Regis motioned him in. "One I will tell in due time."

Once Noctis was fully inside the room, the doors closed behind him.

"I have invited Ravus to this meeting because I hope he may be able to aid our cause," King Regis said.

"Though you have yet to tell me how," Ravus said.

"You are of the Oracle's bloodline," he said. "It is just possible that you have information that has otherwise been lost to us. Your family is more than the bearer of the one who will speak with the Astrals. You are lorekeepers as well."

"You don't think I would have told you if I knew how to subvert the prophecy?" Ravus asked.

"Have you, prior to this moment, considered the possibility of the prophecy going unfulfilled?" King Regis asked.

"No," Ravus admitted. "But I don't see how this is relevant. What I learned from my mother in my childhood was that the prophecy would be fulfilled, by its mere nature, and that Lunafreya would be the one who saw the words through to fruition."

"Do you believe what Princess Reina has said of her Dream?"

The apparent change of topic caught him off-guard.

"I believe that Princess Reina sees the future," Ravus said. "And that one would be a fool to disregard her premonitions."

"Then we are in accord," King Regis said. "Though she has not publicly revealed much of her Dream, I do know that Noctis did not die in the future she experienced. And thus the prophecy was never fulfilled."

"And so? Darkness reigned eternal?"

"No." Noctis stepped into the conversation, breaking his silence. "No, she said that at the end of ten years, she would take my place. She died and we had dawn."

The King of Light survived to see the dawn. The darkness was pushed back on another's life. Could it be possible that it was so simple to circumvent the prophecy and solve the problem on their own terms?

Pah. Simple.

"Exchanging Reina's life for Noctis' is an unsuitable solution," Ravus said.

"How fortunate you agree," King Regis said mildly. "And so we come to the present: we know that the darkness can be destroyed without fulfilling the prophecy. With this knowledge, what must we do to prevent the death of either of my children in this war?"

"And Lunafreya."

"And Lunafreya as well," King Regis agreed.

"You, too." Noctis crossed his arms and looked pointedly up at King Regis.

"In order to destroy this darkness, we must destroy its heart," Ravus said.

"Ardyn," Noctis said.

"Otherwise it will only return. The prophecy would send The King of Light to the Beyond, in an Ascension, to destroy the Usurper," Ravus continued. "The prophecy fixates on how to force his soul into the Beyond. We must focus on _why _he is bound here in the first place."

"We know next to nothing about this man, save that he calls himself Ardyn Izunia and was once the chancellor of Niflheim. Your sister calls him Adagium, but I find any connection with such a tale highly unlikely," King Regis said.

"Fairytales and horror stories." Ravus scoffed. "He was known in Niflheim, but he was never imperial—of that I have no doubt. I can gain access to the imperial files on him. If there is any remaining record of where they found him, they will be in Gralea. I will need passage."

"A seaworthy vessel can be arranged, but will you be safe walking into the imperial capital?" King Regis asked.

"By all regards I am still imperial. In fact, if my surmise is correct, I am the highest ranking imperial official still alive, excepting Ardyn. I won't be harmed. But I may be harried for guidance."

Niflheim would be in chaos. The emperor, the chancellor, and all three generals who had been dispatched to Insomnia for the signing had never returned. Half were dead. If the reports Ravus had heard were true, Tummelt and Besithia had been found in the wreckage of the Magitek engines brought down over Cavaugh some few weeks ago.

"It is your decision to make," King Regis said. "But we will be indebted to you for whatever information you might uncover."

"Then have the ship prepared. I will leave immediately."


	25. Reina, Making Her Own Plans

_Day 40 - 41:_

As predicted, days passed before Noctis and the others returned from the Outlands. When he did, he was changed. The weight of the Armiger seemed to affect him not so differently than the weight of the heir's coronet. Even though he had thrown that away, he carried the weight with him when he strode through the Citadel with Ignis at his heels, handling political matters with his unique brand of offhandedness.

He went to speak privately with Father first thing after returning.

Neither of them invited her to their closed-door meeting, as they had avoided letting her into the previous one. A part of her was grateful for it. Father was king, Noctis was his heir, and Reina wanted nothing to do with any of that, even if Ravus had been included where she had not. She could not trust herself with that power anymore. The rest of her felt helpless, watching the two people she loved most in the world make plans to confront the gods when they hardly knew why. Save for a few moments of lucidity, it felt as if she had done nothing since waking.

She sat on a bench far enough down the hall not to be within earshot of the Crownsguards outside Father's door but still near enough to know when they were through with their discussion.

"You seem morose, little Dreamer."

She hadn't heard him approach. Likely because he had not approached.

"I feel so incompetent." She kicked her feet. Every single chair in the Citadel made her feel like a child when she couldn't touch the floor with her feet. "We used to control the world. And now I don't—I can't even—" She clenched her hands on the edge of the bench. "I never thought I was so weak. But this damn Dream reduced me to hopeless insanity."

"Come now, little Dreamer. Don't tell me you believe madness makes you weak."

He had a unique perspective on the world. Sometimes it was disturbing. But most always it was enlightening.

"If anything, I should call it indicative of strength. The human mind is poorly designed, liable to break under strain the slightest strain. That you are mad—if indeed you are—only speaks of how well you lived, surviving those trials. You're here, aren't you?"

"I can't even protect my own family."

"What's stopping you?"

"You've seen me. I don't even know where I am half the time. What could I do?"

"Kill Bahamut," Ardyn said. "Do you really think ghosts from your past would prevent you from taking the power you deserve and putting it to good use?"

Something about the way he said it made her question. "Do you ever see someone or something and it reminds you so strongly of some other event or person that you swear it's real again?"

"In your Dream I killed Lady Lunafreya." Ardyn leaned closer. "Why? Because I'm cruel and heartless and love to cause suffering? You tell me, little Dreamer. You know everything about me, after all."

She had always assumed it was to torture Noctis. And maybe it was, in part. But…

"The woman you loved… she was the Oracle, wasn't she?" She must have been of the same bloodline as Lunafreya and Ravus. Does Luna resemble her as much as Noctis resembles Somnus?

He stood abruptly and turned away without answering her question. "Kill the Draconian, little Dreamer. Before he kills you. Call when you are ready to leave. I'll be waiting."

She sat there until the meeting concluded. No words were spoken of it, though Ardyn's still rolled around in her mind. The evening passed with as little note as possible, everyone tip-toeing around her as they did now.

The following morning, she made plans.

Only a month and a half it had been since she had woken in a new life with a second chance. Too little time to spend with those she loved before she turned away again. But it was better this way.

They would remain in Insomnia. She could focus on eliminating the last threat to their peace without anyone to worry about. But who would watch over Insomnia and ensure they all remained safe? If she wasn't here, how would she know they would be protected?

The answer loomed in her mind, a great shadow that had been towering over her since she had first woken after Daemonfire Night.

She could Dream. She could look ahead and make sure they would be safe—and if they weren't she could return in time to handle any danger. It was an easy decision. A small risk for herself—so small it hardly beared mentioning—in return for guaranteeing everyone's safety. But every time she thought of that black river of time that had dragged her from Dream to Dream for ten long years, her chest constricted like she had been plunged into icy cold water. No amount of logic could crush that senseless terror.

But she would have to do it anyway. Just as she would have to leave her friends and family here in Insomnia. Both would mean they were safer in the long run. Any discomfort it caused her was immaterial. She would protect them.

It had crossed her mind to rebuild the Wall. If they were wrapped within it, she could breathe a little easier. But two things stayed her hand. Firstly, if she was to face Bahamut, she would need every ounce of strength she and the ring had. The last time they had killed him, the ring had been nearly replete. Now it had ten years still to mature.

The second reason was her father. He would be incensed enough when he learned what she meant to do. He would try to hold her back. She was prepared for that. In the end he would have to admit that this was something she needed to do—for Noctis' sake if not his own. But if she had asked to resurrect the Wall he would have put his foot down. Little would provoke such a strong reaction from him as believing his daughter would suffer the same fate he had. Even the healing she had done for him wasn't so terrible.

No. He would never allow it.

She dropped her eyes from the window where the clear sky bespoke the Wall's absence. Her gaze fixed instead on the letter in front of her. A dozen false starts and failed attempts had culminated in this. In the end it wouldn't matter. He was going to be furious no matter what she wrote.

She folded the letter neatly, sealed it, and delivered it to her father's bedside table. He wouldn't return until late tonight. She would have a day's head start, at least, before he sent someone after her or worse, came after her himself.

She would make the most of those hours.

"Ardyn? Are you there?"

"Always, little Dreamer." He hadn't been, moments before. Now he was—a swirling black mist that coalesced into a man.

She held her hand out to him. "Let's go."


	26. Cor, Missing Reina

_Day 41:_

Insomnia was still a mess. Structural damage had actually been avoided for the most part—a few broken windows that looked like someone in a Magitek suit had flown through them and a pile of rubble that had been identified as the former Statue of the Mystic—but the people were a mess. Not that they weren't usually. Most notably, they liked to swarm outside the Citadel waiting for Gods knew what. Something exciting to happen, maybe.

Crown City police were stretched thin. Gate guard was guarding the gates for once. So that left Crownsguard for crowd control. Not exactly what he had joined up for but he went where the king pointed.

Even if that meant standing at parade rest while someone's grandma told him how she really needed to see the king. She had been at it for about two hours. He had tried the standard 'yes ma'am,' 'no ma'am' responses, which didn't seem to have satisfied her. Maybe if he just stared straight ahead she would mistake him for a wall and totter off.

His radio crackled. "_Marshal, do you copy?"_

He tapped the button on his earpiece. "I copy."

"Are you listening to me, young man?"

"_Prince Noctis is asking for you."_

Was he going to send someone to plug this hole when Cor left so that everyone and their grandma didn't walk in?

"No respect at all for the elderly! I ought to knock your head in."

"Send someone to relieve me," Cor said.

"_Monica is on her way now, sir."_

Cor stepped back, motioning to the Crownsguards on either side of him to redistribute until Monica arrived.

"Don't you walk away from me, young man! I'm talking to you! Do you hear me?!"

Her shouts followed him up the Citadel steps. When he glanced back over his shoulder he thought he could see her cane shaking above the crowd. Monica's problem now. He should have warned her to bring a helmet.

Cor found Prince Noctis upstairs in his office—it was still weird for him to have an office but there was nothing else to call it—along with Ignis.

"You wanted to see me, Your Highness?"

"Yeah, hey. You know where Rei is?" He pushed a stack of papers into Ignis' hands and approached Cor in the doorway.

"Not at the moment. I've been on city watch all morning."

"Well neither has anyone else," Noctis said.

"I'm not surprised. When she doesn't want to be found she isn't."

"Right, but usually she answers her phone," Noctis said. "Well, sometimes anyway. Find her, will you? I know, I know—she doesn't want to be found. But figure it out, alright?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And one more thing—don't tell Dad if you can help it. You know he'll lose it. Probably run off looking for her himself, and we sort of need him here right now. Just find her and bring her back nice and quiet."

"Alright."

"And knock some sense into her thick skull."

If she really had run off, he didn't need Noctis' instructions to do that.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Noctis flapped a hand at him. He'd gotten that one down pat. Maybe he didn't talk like a king but every so often he acted like a prince. A bit.

Cor's first order of business was searching for some sign she had left at all. She could still have been in the city. He hoped she was still in the city. It would make his job that much easier.

The gate guards hadn't seen her go through any of the exits. A good sign, but not a conclusive one. According to Noctis, she had gotten aboard the imperial fleet while it was still in the air a few weeks ago. If she could do that, what was to stop her from getting out of the city without being seen?

Her bedroom looked much the same as it ever did—neat and scarcely used. Her wardrobe looked untouched. If she had packed clothes from here she had been awfully discreet about it. Then again, she hadn't been wearing her own clothes much recently. In the past two weeks Cor had seen her in Regis' clothes, Noctis' clothes, Iris' clothes, Crownsguard fatigues, and at least one T-shirt that looked suspiciously like it had come from his closet. But she sure as hell hadn't been wearing any of these fancy dresses.

So she wouldn't have packed from here. He couldn't really see her packing someone else's clothes, though. Maybe she hadn't packed at all. Maybe she wasn't planning to be gone that long.

Or maybe something else entirely.

Cor tapped his radio. "Lieutenant Ackers, report."

"_Marshal. Nothing of much interest in the city. Most of the foot traffic on the streets has cleared up."_

"Lieutenant, I want to know if anyone has seen Princess Reina in the past twelve hours. Put out the word. Spread it to the Kingsglaive as well."

"_I copy, Marshal. You'll have answers in a moment."_

In the meantime, Cor went back downstairs and downstairs again. The first level of the basement had been partially converted into a massive garage housing a few dozen cars. There was still a slim chance that Reina had gotten out through one of the gates. Everyone should have recognized her on sight but traffic hadn't been as restricted the past couple weeks. Ever since the Wall had fallen, they'd been letting people in.

In the garage, he found the Regalia and a dozen other scarcely used cars. He also found Prince Noctis' car—a custom convertible Regis had ordered for their birthday last summer—and, parked adjacent, Reina's car.

So much for that idea.

"_Marshal, I have reports from the Guard and the Glaive."_

"Tell me." His voice echoed in the underground garage. It was a miracle he had reception here at all.

"_No one has seen her in or around the Citadel, but she was spotted down Sky Avenue with a tall, burgundy-haired man earlier today."_

Shit. Anything to do with Ardyn was trouble. Maybe she trusted him, maybe she didn't, but if Cor had his way, Ardyn wouldn't be within ten miles of her.

"Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

"_It's downtown—shopping district, Marshal. She was spotted entering a shop and it wasn't considered unusual."_

"Princess Reina goes shopping with the Chancellor of Niflheim and _no one _found that unusual? She hasn't gone shopping in four years!"

"_Apologies, Marshal. A considerable oversight was made, it seems. Would you like me to release the order for a search?"_

"No." Hell no. He couldn't order the whole Crownsguard to search for the princess and expect that to not get back to Regis. "No search and this trail stops here. Just give me the address of that shop."

He took Reina's car. She wasn't going to use it, wherever she had gone, and it was faster than requisitioning one. Traffic was awful but when wasn't it, in Insomnia? Seemed it was worse than normal, these past weeks, what with crowds of people congregating everywhere, including the streets. And downtown was always hell.

He pulled off the street and into the fire lane. If they ticketed the Marshal of the Crownsguard while he was driving the princess' car he was arresting someone. It took a couple tries to find the right shop. One would think they'd have numbers on them. And they did. But not anywhere convenient.

It was a clothing boutique. High class. Expensive. Exactly the sort of place a princess might shop, if she had ever gone shopping for herself.

"How can I help you, sir?" The sale's rep hesitated when she looked at him. Her eyes flicked over his Crownsguard fatigues but her smile remained fixed. He wasn't the sort of person who came here for fun.

"I have reports that Princess Reina came here this morning. Can you confirm that?"

She looked shocked. Then flustered. "Really, sir, I don't think—"

"Then you had better start." Cor pulled his Crownsguard ID from his pocket and held it up. "Did she come in here?"

"So sorry, sir." She bowed hastily. "I didn't recognize you. Yes, Her Highness did come in about three hours ago. She bought some things and left in a hurry. She didn't even let me tailor them for her."

"Was there anyone with her?" Cor asked.

"Um. A tall man. With reddish hair. I think I remember seeing him on TV before the signing—I thought he was an imperial but I guess not, if Her Highness was with him."

Or politics were complicated. And Reina was more complicated still.

"What did she buy?"

"A few outfits, sir. Let's see, there were a few pairs of pants—all black, you know how the royal family is—and the boots—very sensible with a low heel—a few blouses and a nice pair of gloves. Oh and a cape."

"A cape?"

"They're very in-vogue, sir. Short and cut in the style His Majesty wears. The one she bought had a hood rather than a collar."

He would never understand fashion.

"Right. I'm going to need pictures of everything she bought—or as close as you can get. And more precise times."

The trip wasn't a complete waste. He had his pictures—though it took longer than he liked—and he had the start of a timeline. So she had bought clothes, whether because she didn't like hers or because she didn't want to be recognized. Maybe both, but the fact that she'd opted for a hood and long gloves seemed to support the latter.

He still couldn't say for certain if she had left the city. Even with the description of her clothing he didn't get a hit from the gate guard. This was why Lucis needed a unified guard, inside and outside the Crown City.

Where would she have gone if she had stayed in Insomnia? Her friends and family were all in the Citadel—or close by. The only person she cared about outside the capitol, so far as he knew, was Iris. But if she had been with Iris, someone would have known.

Just to be certain, he swung by Clarus' house. Traffic was hell. Minutes clicked by on the clock while he sat. Another thirty had passed before he arrived.

Iris was home. Ever since Reina had healed Clarus she had less reason to be hanging around the Citadel all the time. But with her dad and brother both there all day, sometimes she did anyway.

"Oh! Cor." She peered around the door at him. "Dad's not home."

"I know." Good thing, too. "Seen Reina recently?"

"Rei? No. I saw her last night when I was at the Citadel, but that's it. Did something happen?"

Well that was his last lead in the city. The search zone had just opened up tenfold.

"Thanks. Don't tell your dad I was here." He turned to go.

"Cor, wait!"

He stopped, looking back as she followed him halfway down the steps.

"If something happened, I want to help," she said.

"Nothing happened." Yet. "And it's being handled."

"'Nothing' is being handled?" She balled her fists against her hips. "If you don't want me to tell my dad you came by, you'll tell me."

Cor sighed. This was a huge waste of time.

"I told you, nothing happened. We just don't know where Reina is right now."

"Did she leave on her own?"

"I don't know."

"I can help you look!"

"You can stay here and forget I ever came by." He turned back around and descended the last of the steps. He never should have come to ask her. She would tell Clarus and Clarus would tell Regis. Or, worse still, she would try to follow him. Good thing she didn't have a license yet.

He climbed back into Reina's car and racked his brain. Reina had bought new clothes to hide her identity and left the city without being seen—not impossible for her but definitely inconvenient for him.

He could go after her, but he would be going in blind. Lucis was thousands of square miles. Without some clue, he would never find her.

What would she want outside the city? Since Daemonfire, the only time she had left Insomnia had been to bring those imperial ships down. So she would leave if she thought there was a threat outside the city. Or if she thought there was a tool she could use outside the city.

Or both.

He threw the car into gear and hit the accelerator. Time to see if he knew her as well from two weeks as she knew him from ten years.


	27. Iris, Stowing Away

_Day 41:_

So Cor thought he didn't need help to find Rei, huh? Probably still thought Iris was just a kid. Sheesh. After they'd landed a Magitek engine together and everything, too. Crashed. Okay, crashed a Magitek engine together. But only because Rei had caught it on fire first.

The point was he was a great big lump and he obviously needed help. Otherwise he wouldn't have come asking if Reina was here in the first place. Well Iris would just have to go along.

She made a show of closing the front door and slipped out the side window, which still didn't have a screen in it after Daemonfire Night. Nifty. Never thought it would come in handy. There was enough topiary on the side of the house that she could make it almost all the way to the street while Cor was still getting into his car. Actually. Wasn't that Rei's car? The purple suited him real well.

No chance to get closer before he pulled away from the curb. But this was a skip and a hop away from downtown Insomnia and he was heading right into the gridlock that was Caelum street. No one got through there without sitting at stop lights for twenty minutes.

She grabbed Gladdy's skateboard from where he always hid it under the bush in the front. He hadn't used it in months anyway. Okay at least weeks. He was busy doing important Shield stuff. She laid it on the ground and hopped on, keeping crouched low as gravity did the work for her. So long as she didn't lose Cor before he hit the signal at the bottom, she would be fine. And also so long as he didn't look in any of his mirrors and see her following him. Okay, that was a big if, but it would probably be fine anyway. Right?

Right.

She dodged past a few people as the sidewalk started getting busier. They looked at her weird, but not more than once. Just one more young hooligan skateboarding on the side_walk_. Darn them whippersnappers!

The bottom of the hill was coming up. Cor was still ahead and turning left, like she'd guessed. If she timed it right she could pull through the intersection and catch up with him at the next light.

She stuck her foot out and dragged to slow down. Cor turned left. She hit the bottom of the hill, watching the light.

Turn red. Please turn red.

Too late.

She sped over the crosswalk, dodging past the rear of a car that turned left in front of her. This was illegal on so many levels. Dad was going to kill her.

Actually, if he found out she'd done this, probably crossing an intersection without the walk signal would be the least of her worries.

A line of cars stretched out ahead, stuck at the light that was always red. Cor was last in his lane, though probably not for long when the signal behind her went. Had to move quick. Probably better not to have anyone calling the guard because they'd seen a girl climbing into someone's trunk at a stop light.

Yeah… Totally not suspicious or anything.

She jumped the curb, crouched as low on the board as she could be, and slid up behind Cor's car. Rei's car. One of those. In some miraculous turn of luck, it actually had a catch on the outside and didn't need to be released from the driver's seat or with a key. She popped it open, scooped up Gladio's skateboard, and rolled inside. She pulled it shut as quietly as she could just as the light behind turned green. Maybe someone had seen her. Hopefully they didn't care enough to call anyone.

Also, hopefully there was a latch on the inside of the trunk, because she had just closed herself in.


	28. Cor, Climbing

_Day 41:_

Almost thirty years since the last time he had been outside the Crown City. The Kingsglaive left Insomnia now and then, but the Crownsguard was strictly inside the wall—usually in the Citadel. Except when the whole city fell to pieces and they needed extra boots on the streets.

He remembered a little bit. Not much, but enough to get him where he needed to go.

Hopefully.

Noctis had just come back from the Outlands with a brand new set of spectral glaives. Cor was banking on Reina wanting every possible means to protect people. It was a guess, plain and simple. The best guess he had for now.

A few of the royal family had been entombed on the surface. Convenient. Easily accessible. Really he couldn't think why they all hadn't. To make the next generations suffer, probably. Either she would go to the quickest tombs first and work her way back through the deeper down tombs, or she would go to the closest and work her way to the farthest.

Or else she wasn't after the royal arms at all. In which case he was out of guesses.

Trying to follow her trail was stupid. She had several hours head start on him and she didn't seem constrained by normal methods of transportation. He had a slim chance of catching her if he cut across Lucis and tried to head her off at a later tomb. Luckily, the only one he remembered a location for was on the opposite side of Lucis. Or unluckily, depending how the clocks played out.

At least he had the added benefit of a custom made sports car that could have left the Crownsguard cars sitting in the dust. Law enforcement was pretty scarce outside the wall or he would have been worried about attracting attention. A Caelum car wasn't a well-known symbol out here. Neither was a Crownsguard badge. He couldn't afford to stop and explain either.

It was what Clarus and Regis would have called reckless driving. He pulled the corners tight and passed cars by driving on the wrong side of the road. It still took too long to reach the Rock of Ravatogh. By the time he pulled off the road at the bottom of the mountain it was already afternoon.

Gods he hoped she hadn't been up there and left already. Sprinting up a volcano for no reason wasn't on his list of fun ways to spend an afternoon. Only one way to find out.

He tightened his bootlaces and set off, hopping the guardrail and following the faint path that led up toward the base of the volcano. Black dust puffed up with each footfall. It was like the whole damn mountain was sitting on a pile of ash. Probably was.

By the time he hit the rocky base, he had sprinted past half a dozen bestial pests and had yet to see a single person. More beasts than people in the Outlands. Or maybe an active volcano wasn't most people's idea of a tourist destination.

His boots hit stone and he picked up the pace. Easier to run on firm ground. In a few steps the excess ash had all been jarred from from his boots. Something told him he was still going to be covered in the stuff by the time he got to the top.

Cor counted the minutes first. When those grew too plentiful, he counted the hours. He couldn't tell how much progress he had made; it was hard to see the top, least of all remember exactly where the tomb had been. Hopefully he was going in the right direction. Hopefully she hadn't already beat him there.

More beasts lurked on the path up. He dodged past them, avoiding a fight whenever he could. Eventually he hit a point where sprinting was no longer a valid form of transportation. Just as well. His lungs were burning and he had so many stitches in his sides he might as well have been sewn up.

The path continued up. Steep. When he was standing upright he could reach out a hand and touch the ground in front of him. It was ashy, too. Easy to slip and easier to fall. It grated on his nerves to slow his pace to a crawl but that was the only way he was getting up. A false step on this ground meant sliding all the way back down. Or worse: sliding off the edge.

In spite of the growing protest of his muscles, the pounding of his heart in his chest, the endless pursuit for air, he never stopped for a break. He couldn't afford that.

It seemed an hour before his feet were back on solid rock and the climb leveled out. At least in patches. The path took him across a narrow ledge where every step pushed pebbles over the side and warned him what would happen at the first misstep.

Somewhere between the base and the crest, lost in smoking, oozing pools of lava, and halfway up a vertical climb, he began to wonder if the tomb was even at the top of the volcano. He remembered going up this with Regis and the others. Not the path but the heat and the struggle and the ache. They must have gone all the way up. If you were going to put your tomb in a volcano, why not at the top?

He pressed on. The sun was setting by the time he dropped down into the crater at the top of the mountain. He switched on his light and searched for some continuation of the path up. A hollow lava tube led back down but he wasn't willing to gamble that it would go up after. He found another ledge that climbed around one side and took that instead.

He had wasted too much time. Four hours across Lucis going twice the speed limit and close to four on the mountain already. Unless Reina had visited every single tomb in Lucis before this one—and taken her sweet time all the while—he wasn't going to catch her. But hell if he was giving up now.

The path was too narrow to run down. He did it anyway.

In the growing dark with a wobbling flashlight as his only source of light, it was hard to see the rocks. His foot came down on one and he lost his balance. His feet slipped out. The little pebbles and sandy dirt made his path a slide all the way down. He scrambled for purchase. Rocks bit his hands when he reached out; hurt like hell and didn't even slow his slide. It would hurt more if he slid off the ledge. And he was picking up speed. He slammed his heels into the rock, wedging himself closer to the wall. His back dragged against it. More friction was good. Never mind the pain.

Slowly, bit by bit, he scraped to a halt. His heels caught a crack and he tumbled head over to land on a flat space.

He lay on his stomach against the hot stone for a long time. His hands were still attached. His fingers may have been a little shorter, but he didn't need that last inch anyway. He could feel the burn on his back, though. A stinging, spreading pain that dug in sharp when the hot wind picked up.

One good thing had come of it—besides still being alive. The royal tomb was here on the flat. He stared straight at the door while he lay on the ground catching his breath.

He pushed himself upright with his elbows, biting back a groan of pain. A quick inspection of his hands said they were cut and scraped to hell. He was leaving drops next to the bloody handprints on the ground.

That was what he got for reckless pursuit.

The tomb was still shut. Either she hadn't been this way or she had closed it after. If the former she might not even have been after the royal arms. If the latter, he had no way of knowing.

He took a few staggering steps to the stone doors and left a streak of bloody handprints down to the ground. It was easier to sit. Actually, sitting was hell. Either he tried to sit straight up to spare touching his back to anything or he gave in to the exhaustion and leaned back against the doors.

No one knew where he was. If he didn't come back they weren't coming after him unless he got word out. He pulled his phone from his pocket, smearing bloody streaks all over.

He managed to light up the screen, wincing at the press of buttons against raw fingers.

No reception.

Shit.

He dropped his phone and slumped back against the doors, accepting the sharp pain that struck across his back as the lesser of two evils.

The adrenaline that had carried him through a four hour sprint up the volcano was waning. He was not making it back down tonight. If he survived until morning it would still take a miracle to climb back down with shredded hands and back.

So this was where it ended. In pursuit of his princess, on top of a volcano, in the middle of the night.

He would have liked to say he had died doing something worthwhile.


	29. Cor, Waking Up

_Day 41:_

He woke up.

That was the strangest part.

By the time he was conscious enough to remember he hadn't expected to, he was conscious enough to regret waking up at all.

Every muscle that he had pushed in a relentless sprint up the mountain had seized up, cold and tense and cramped all over. His back felt stiff and hot underneath the burning, and his hands were more than a little swollen.

Something slid in the dirt nearby. He managed to peel his eyes open, but it was harder to lift his head. His light had gone out.

"Cor!"

Cold hands touched his face, lifting his head. With the little bit of moonlight he could make out a face hovering in front of his.

Her face.

"Reina." His voice came out like the scraping of rock against rock. His mouth felt like sandpaper.

"Hush. Don't try to talk."

"Noctis… sent me… supposed to… bring you back… before Regis… gets mad."

She stared at him, shocked, like it had never occurred to her that someone would worry about her or come after her when she left.

"Shh." This time she pressed a finger across his lips to stop him talking. "Let me help."

The Ring of the Lucii blazed to life on her hand, too bright so close to his face. He winced, turning away as violet fire danced across her skin. A tingling numbness spread from his face where her hands rested. It soothed the ache in his muscles, untying knots and dissolving cramps. It built up in his hands, across his palms and over his fingertips, like hundreds of tiny needles pricking his skin. It welled up across his burning back and chased away pain and heat with magic.

When he opened his eyes again he could see more clearly. Think more clearly. Clear enough to notice the way the magic cracked her skin, leaving blazing violet lines up her neck and arms, across her face and hands.

"Reina—don't—!"

His arms still felt heavy, his hands clumsy, but he managed to grab hold of her wrists to pull her away. Or he tried, at least.

"Stop!" He tried to pull away from her when he found his muscles too weak to break her hold. "I'm not worth this."

"Hush." She only leaned closer to him, pressed her forehead to his and held so tightly he couldn't have squirmed free even if his back wasn't against stone. "You are to me."

He held onto her but stopped trying to pull her away. He left bloody handprints around her wrists. Underneath he could feel his skin knitting. Sensations faded back to touch and pressure instead of pain and burning. The heat and stiffness across his back faded to a cool glow until he could feel the stone doors against his bare shoulder blades.

And when all that was through—when he felt just as whole as he had been before his shortcut down the rocky path—the violet fire receded from her skin and settled back into the ring. For a moment he swore he could see the faint outline where every line had been. But they faded away.

He was breathless. Still covered in dirt and soot and blood but all in one piece underneath the grime. She sat back on her heels and he let her go.

"Feel better?" She asked.

His head thumped back against the doors. He stared at her, trying to catch his breath and assemble his thoughts.

"Do I feel _better_? How can you ask me that?" In spite of himself, he found the return of his temper along with his health. "I told you to stop! You can't go around sacrificing yourself for other people!"

Stupid idea. He knew it as soon as the words were out of his mouth but too late to stop them. Her eyes opened wide and she jerked back as if he had struck her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but not to him. Not to him now, anyway. To whomever he'd become during those ten years that had turned her into the woman who could take down Niflheim alone but couldn't sleep and was afraid of the dark.

Shit.

"Reina—"

"I'm fine…" she said, her voice slow and distant, her eyes unfocused.

"Like hell you are," Cor said. Why wouldn't she just admit it? She lied more often than she told the truth these days. He bit back an angry retort. Shouting at her wasn't going to help anything.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hugging herself as she sat back on her heels. He didn't do anything. There wasn't anything he could do. Maybe Regis could have held her and told her everything was fine, but usually she flinched away from anyone else who tried to touch her. Usually.

She let go of herself slowly, dragged her hands over the rough stone beneath her. Her mouth moved but no sound came out—at least none Cor could hear. It took awhile to figure out what she was mouthing.

Seven fifty-six.

"Little Dreamer…" Another voice broke the quiet. Only one person could sound so bored and leisurely at the same time. Only one person called her little Dreamer.

Ardyn stepped from the shadows farther up the path.

She looked back when he stopped next to her. "I'm fine," she said, a little less slowly.

"Then shall we do what we came here to do, little Dreamer?" Ardyn offered her a hand.

"Yes." She took it, letting him pull her to her feet. Cor couldn't see her eyes to tell if she was any more focused, but at least she sounded more clear.

Cor hauled himself up. When he was on his feet he could see the bloody patch he had left against the doors where his back had rested. He must have looked a hell of a mess when she found him.

He probably still did. But at least she had found him. Or he had found her. It didn't matter anymore.

"What do you want the Armiger for?" Cor asked.

"To kill Bahamut." Reina stepped forward, unlocking the royal tomb with a touch. Her voice sounded almost normal, but there was a tremor in her hand when she touched the door. "So you see why I can't go back with you. Even though Father will worry."

Hell. She wanted to kill _a god_? What the hell did that even mean? And why? More unanswered questions. Maybe she'd never be able to tell him why. Hell if he was going anywhere else, anyway.

"I'm more worried about him coming after you himself." Cor followed her into the tomb. A cool burst of air met him—uncannily chill after the heat of the volcano outside.

Reina turned to look sharply at him. "He wouldn't."

She knew he would. Cor didn't bother to correct her.

Ardyn brushed past him in the dark, ran his fingers along the edge of the sarcophagus and came to stand on the far side.

"Tonitrus the fierce!" He said in a voice that echoed off the walls. "Another spawn of my worthless brother. Really, little Dreamer, you keep poor company."

"As a worthless spawn of your brother, I've been forced to resort to forming bonds with similarly worthless spirits," she said dryly.

She held her hand out toward the sarcophagus. Cor had seen Regis do much the same thing but that had been decades ago. No words could describe the burst of magic sweeping over them, causing his hairs to stand on end, as a spectral mace rose from the stone likeness of the Lucian king. Seven other glaives leapt to life around her, each one glowing with an ethereal, violet light. The blue of the mace darkened to purple when it joined her arsenal.

And, with a sweep of her hand, she banished them all.

Darkness closed back in.

"There," she said. "Only two left."

Ardyn held out his hand to her.

"No," she said. "It's late and Cor could use a break. We'll get the last one tomorrow, then secure passage to Niflheim."

Cor could use a break? More like she could. She swayed on her feet and put her hand out to steady herself on the sarcophagus.

Maybe Ardyn saw that too, because he said, "You whim is my command, little Dreamer. But why should we wait for a ship when we could leap there in one bound?"

"Because Cor is with us now."

Ardyn fixed his eyes on Cor. They were yellow. Inhuman.

"Is he?" Ardyn asked. "I hadn't noticed. I'm sure I could fix that, if you wanted."

He held out his hand and a sword leapt to his grasp in a burst of red magic. Just like Caelum magic.

More mysteries. He was getting sick of unanswered questions.

"Oh, stop it." Reina turned her back on him, taking Cor's arm and walking with him out of the tomb. It was a bad pretense to lean on him, but he didn't mention it.

"That's it, then?" Cor asked. "No telling me to go back to Insomnia? No trying to get ahead again?"

"Would you go if I told you to?"

"No."

"Would you follow recklessly if I did get ahead?"

"Yes."

"Then no," she said. "I've already seen what you're willing to do to yourself on the off chance of chasing me down. I can't let you put yourself in danger like that."

She couldn't let _him_ put himself in danger. Something had gone wrong in this bodyguard-princess dynamic.

"Come on," she said. "There's a wide flat space beyond the crater. We'll make camp there."


	30. Iris, Stuck

_Day 41:_

There was not.

Honestly, that was probably a safety hazard. Wasn't there some law that required trunks to be open-able from the inside? Y'know. Just in case someone threw you in a trunk and you needed to get out. Or maybe on the off chance that you closed yourself in a trunk because it was less obvious than climbing into the back seat, but didn't think to check if you could get out until it was too late.

Yup. That sure would have been a good law. Maybe if she didn't starve to death in this trunk, she would tell the king about it.

The car was still moving. They had been going for a long time without stopping, so they must have been outside the walls by now. Somehow, this was not really how she had imagined her first ever trip outside the Crown City going.

Wow, look at the sights! That tire iron was really something.

Cor sure wasn't taking the turns easy, either. She thought about shouting at him to slow down because this spare tire was really not a great pillow, but he'd probably turn around and take her back home. Actually, if he was in that much of a rush, he probably wouldn't. But then she would have to admit that she had locked herself in a trunk.

Sheesh. Embarrassing.

She had her phone to pass the time and that was about it. If she didn't mind the risk of the tire falling on her face she could stand it up and lean it to one side, and that was a little more comfortable. A little more dangerous, yeah, okay, but what was the worst that could happen?

Well, she could be found locked in a trunk with a broken nose. Then she could at least pretend like someone else had done it to her instead of admitting both those things were her fault.

See? Airtight plan.

The car stopped. A door opened and closed. She hesitated.

"Cor?" She called out. "Hey! Cor!"

Aaand no response. Because he was gone already. Okay. Well. He would probably come back, right? Unless he got eaten by wild dogs and she was stuck locked in a trunk in an abandoned car in the middle of the outlands. Actually, she could have been anywhere in the outlands, but everything was the middle of nowhere out there, right? Out here.

Yeah, okay. Time for a new plan.

The good news was, Rei's custom made, one-of-a-kind sports car was pretty sturdy. Surprising, really. Who put that kind of workmanship into a car commissioned by the king for his own children?

Okay, not surprising.

The bad news was, the tire iron was not very sturdy and there was not really enough room to maneuver it in there anyway. It was a little bent. Iris probably had a circular bruise on her ribcage. The latch was for sure still intact.

The seats were also not budging and there was no good way to kick a tail light from here. The angles were all wrong. She knew. She'd tried. Along with half a dozen other things.

Okay, step five hundred and sixty-four: re-search the entire trunk for something she had missed the first five hundred and sixty-three times. She turned on the light on her phone, twisted onto her stomach, and scanned along the side nearest her head.

She peeled up the edge of the liner and peered underneath. Please no spiders. That would have made this day so much worse. Actually, it was a really clean trunk. Not that she had a lot of experience being in trunks, but. Then again, what did a princess use a trunk for? She probably didn't even use the car.

No spiders. Not really even any dust. But she did find a cable attached to the inside of the trunk. For what? The latch, maybe? Seemed weird to put one in if it opened from the outside. Then again, seemed weird not to have one inside. Just in case, obviously.

That was probably some sort of electric signal anyway. But. Eh. Worth a shot.

She yanked on the cable.

The latch clicked. The trunk lifted.

"Are you kidding me right now?" She asked no one in particular.

She climbed out. Stumbled, really, was more the word, but the end result was being upright on her feet and that was what counted. It was pitch black and she really was in the middle of nowhere. Like. Actually parked on the side of the road with nothing at all except that big mountain with the red glow. There was a volcano in Lucis? Yeah. Right?

Right.

There weren't even street lights out here. Sheesh. Who designed this place?

Cor was nowhere to be seen. There were lights down the road, though, not too far off, so she walked that way. She closed the trunk first. Stupid trunk. Wouldn't it just suck if Cor got back to the car while she was looking for him and drove off not even knowing he'd just left her there?

She texted him. It was too late for him to take her back to Insomnia, unless he found Rei and went back anyway.

_Hey, if you get back to the car don't leave without me. Dad'll be mad._

Now to hope his phone wasn't dead. On the sort of day that she got locked in a trunk, it probably would be. She'd just have a look around and see what those lights were and if it wasn't Cor or Rei then she'd go back to wait with the car. No point wandering all over looking for him. He couldn't get far without the car.


	31. Regis, Calling Reina

_Day 41:_

_Dear Father_— he read —_I cannot tell you not to worry. You will, regardless. All I can ask is that you do not hate me. Understand: this must be done. Of us all, I am best equipped to do it. You must know this._

_I have gone to claim my heritage and remove a tyrant from the world. Bahamut must fall if we are to have any chance at peace. If he is allowed to live I have no doubt he will make good on his threats—to end both your life and Noctis' in pursuit of his so-called justice. So I have gone to secure us peace._

_This is not, as you may believe, a reckless exchange of my life for yours and Noctis'. I intend to return. And I will, once you are both safe._

_I love you more than anything in the world. If you grow to hate me through this, I would bear your hatred, knowing you were safe and whole; I would become the ghost who protects the Citadel, unseen but always present. Just as I was for all of Lucis in my Dream. _

_With all my heart,_

_Your loving daughter_

Regis clenched his hand on the note. His eyes fell shut, his chin against his chest. She had done it. She had left Insomnia on her own to hunt a god. He had never thought his daughter foolhardy before now. But the blame was at least partially his. While he had been occupied making plans with Noctis and seeing that she was kept out of these matters, it seemed she had been making plans of her own.

But this. This was too far. How could she run off on her own, like some spoiled child running from a future she didn't wish to face? Perhaps she had done things that way during her Dream, but that was not how they were done in his kingdom.

Every monarch had a retinue. It wasn't for show. It wasn't for playing cards in camp late at night when they should have been sleeping. It was for pulling him back from the edge when he strayed too near the drop. Because every Caelum, left to his own devices, would take that leap.

This was his fault. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked back at Reina's note. When they had been children, he had been so focused on giving Noctis what he needed that he had not even stopped to consider that Reina might need the same—a retinue to call her own, not Noctis', because she was not her brother and his friends would never be as dear to her as to him. Even when they had grown older and Regis had recognized that she had no friends of her own, had known it was dangerous that she counted him as her best friend, he hadn't done a thing.

He reached for his phone. It was late already, but she scarcely slept. Perhaps she would answer.

Perhaps she wouldn't.

He paced the length of his bedroom as he counted the rings. If her phone had been dead or turned off it would have gone straight to voicemail. If she hadn't wanted him to contact her, she would have turned her phone off. It stood to reason then, that she would answer if she was able.

She did. "_Father."_

In that toneless tone, which told him nothing about what she was thinking underneath.

"Reina." Angry or not, he was relieved to hear her voice. She was capable and she wielded the Ring of the Lucii. She could take care of herself. But she could also step into an impossible situation, like attempting to fight a god on her own.

Silence stretched while he waited for her to say something else. She didn't. Perhaps she was waiting for him.

Her patience broke first. "_Are you angry with me?"_

"Yes," he said levelly. "Though not as angry as I am with myself. This is more my fault than yours."

"_It isn't your fault, Father."_

"No? Do you truly believe that, had I been a better father to you, you would still have made the same choice?"

"_I don't know."_

"Neither do I." He sighed and allowed the subject to pass. "You must know that Noctis and I have been preparing for a conflict with the Astrals," Regis said. "Why did you not come to us instead?"

"_I didn't want to endanger you."_

"So instead you chose to endanger yourself by taking matters into your own hands and venturing forth to challenge a god on your own?"

"_I'm not alone. I meant to only take Ardyn, but Cor followed after."_

"Cor?"

"_He came after me and nearly killed himself sliding down the Rock of Ravatogh."_

For a brief moment, he understood why she might want to keep even someone like Cor locked away where he could not fall into trouble. He felt a spark of anger that Cor had known she was gone early enough to chase after her but had not thought to let Regis know. It was quickly doused by relief that she wasn't as alone as he had thought. Cor would ground her. He had no qualms with beating sense into Caelum skulls.

But her other comment, buried in this confession, snagged his attention.

"And Ardyn?"

"_He's with me, too."_

"Do you trust him?"

She didn't answer right away. That was telling in and of itself.

Eventually she said, "_That is a question without an easy answer, Father."_

"Then give me a difficult answer."

"_I trust him to behave as I expect. I trust him to stand by my side and aid in defeating Bahamut."_

So they were playing a game of conditional trust. Very well. Two could play.

"Do you trust him to keep you alive?"

"_Yes."_

"Do you trust him to protect Lucis?"

"_As much as I would trust a cat to protect a mouse."_

"So his loyalties lie with you and you only?" Not necessarily a bad trait. Not necessarily a good one either.

"_I don't know if loyalty is the right word. Devotion, maybe."_

Regis sighed. She had yet to convince him that this was a worthwhile companion for her. Perhaps she never would, but he had little choice. The Starscourge incarnate, indeed.

"Do you trust him to pull you back from the edge?"

"_That depends what edge we are talking about. On the whole, he is more likely to push me off than pull me away."_

"Reina, you are not doing wonders for convincing me of his virtue."

"_That's for the best. He has very few."_

"_Reina,_" Regis chided.

That may have been a laugh—short and sharp—but it was difficult to tell without seeing her face.

"_You want to know why I chose to take him with me. Aside from the obvious—that he and his magic will be great assets in the battle to come—the simple truth is that I like him. He makes me laugh when there is nothing left to laugh about. Yes, he tests my balance by coming up behind me as I stand on the edge and giving me a shove, but when I walk away it is with greater conviction and a diminished desire to stand so near the edge. _

"_If I stood atop the Citadel looking down, he would whisper 'jump.' When I look back and say I was a monster, he agrees with me. And perhaps what we really need is someone to call our bluff. You told me once that the most important thing Clarus did was question your decisions and beliefs. Perhaps he does much the same thing, if in a somewhat more devious way."_

It would have been easier to believe he was a villain who needed to be separated from Reina at all costs. She had, however, made valid points in his favor. And she liked him. Even if Regis didn't agree, that was nearly as important as the rest.

"Reina, my dear, I must trust your judgement. But never forget there is a great darkness in that man."

Adagium or not, something about him instilled unease in others.

"_In me as well."_

"That is what worries me, my dear. I would hope—if nothing else—that balance will be maintained between those forces within you. For that I must insist you never isolate yourself with him again."

"_Cor is here."_

"And that is a great comfort to me. But I fear it may not be enough."

"_I'll be fine. We'll get through this and I'll bring Cor home safely after. Trust me, Father."_

He sighed. "That, I fear, I can no longer do, my dear."


	32. Cor, Watching Over

_Day 41:_

He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Something told him the moment he took his eyes off Reina she was going to disappear again. The fire was a crackling glow, comfortable in spite of the warm weather, and rock wasn't so uncomfortable now that his back wasn't one shredded mess.

The next thing he remembered was jerking awake, still sitting upright against the cliff face. His heart skipped. He should have stayed alert. He was supposed to be watching her, damn it.

But Reina was fifteen feet away, sitting on the edge of the flat and holding her phone to her ear. He caught the last few words—enough to guess she was speaking with Regis—before she hung up. On the other side of the fire, Ardyn was stretched out on his back with his hat over his face, his hands resting on his stomach, and ankles crossed like he had settled in for an afternoon nap.

Cor climbed to his feet. His muscles were stiff; they would be sore tomorrow, but for now it was tolerable. He crossed the camp—such as it was—to the edge where Reina sat. He hadn't noticed on the way up, but the view was breathtaking. Not worth sprinting up the mountain for, but finding Reina had paid that debt.

"Father is furious with me," she said.

Cor sat down beside her, letting his feet hang over the edge. He was still a mess—covered in dirt and ash and blood—and his shirt was torn open across the back. At least he was still in one piece.

"You'd think he would understand sacrifice to keep people safe," she said.

"Maybe he just doesn't want his daughter making the sacrifice," Cor said.

"Well I don't condone anyone else making that sacrifice."

"That's not your choice to make," he said.

From up here, all of Lucis seemed to stretch out before them. The meteor glowed in the Disc of Cauthess, a few scattered outposts were visible only through their flood lights, and beyond all that was the Crown City—a sea of lights in its own right.

"The only choice you get is whether or not to make relationships," Cor said. "If you don't, maybe no one will try to protect you."

"I can't push you all away again. It was hard enough the first time when I knew I would die. I don't think I'm strong enough to do it again."

"Strong enough? You think it takes strength to break friendships and go your own way? If you were strong, you'd let your friends fight beside you. It takes strength to trust, and to let them risk themselves—because your worry isn't a good enough reason to be selfish."

She looked up at him, surprised—maybe hurt—it was hard to read her. Tough luck. That was what being friends with him cost. She should have known that by now.

"If that is strength then I am weak," she said levelly. "But I will do everything in my power for you—for all of you. And that means I have to Dream."

She climbed to her feet. Cor scrambled after.

"On purpose?"

"I used to do it," she said.

"Inside a _Dream_," he said. "What if you get stuck again?"

She stopped on her way toward the fire and turned back to him. "That fear is why I haven't tried yet."

He didn't know shit about her Dreams. He didn't want to encourage an irrational fear but so far he hadn't seen evidence that it was irrational.

"You have nothing to fear, little Dreamer." Ardyn's voice issued from underneath his hat. "The power is still yours to command."

Somehow, his assurance only made Cor more certain this was a bad idea.

"Reina. I don't think you should do this without Regis present," Cor said.

"I have to." If she was afraid, he couldn't tell. She stared at the ground with that cold, distant expression she wore sometimes. "I have to know if anyone is in danger. But I have to fall asleep first. I tried to reach the In Between while I was awake before but couldn't. Unfortunately, I don't sleep well anymore."

That part was true, at least. It seemed like every time he stopped by upstairs after a late patrol in the city, she was still awake and prowling the halls. She never wanted to lay down or close her eyes. Probably she didn't sleep well because she was afraid of even trying, not because she struggled to fall asleep.

"You're really going to do this?" Cor asked.

"I have to try. Don't you see? If you could look ahead and know that I would be safe or see every threat in my future so you could divert them, wouldn't you?"

"Yes." Even if the risk was living ten years that had never happened. Even if he had to die in a Dream world to wake in this one. He sat down beside the fire and patted the ground beside him. "Come on, then."

"You're not going to try to stop me?"

"No. But I am going to hold onto your phone and call Regis at the first hint that you're lost."

He took her phone from her. His had died somewhere between trying to call for help and reaching the campsite.

She lay down between Cor and Ardyn. When she did, it left Cor and Ardyn staring at each other. Not exactly his idea of a nice view.

They waited. Cor was too strung out even to think about sleeping. He told himself the nap he had taken before had been enough. But he laid down anyway, because it was the best way he'd found to convince Reina to sleep.

If Ardyn needed sleep, he sure never showed it. He always looked the same. Reina tossed and turned. Trying to keep herself awake, probably, whether consciously or subconsciously. It was another hour minutes of staring at the stars before she drifted off.

He had been in Tenebrae that first time. He had never heard Reina scream before that. After, he mostly wasn't in the right place at the right time, but once or twice in the next twelve years he had seen what happened when she Dreamed.

It didn't happen. Not right away, at least.

The fire was dying, leaving them in the bare flicker of ember light and the pale glow of the moon. Reina slept on, still and silent.

"How long does it usually take?" He asked.

"To Dream?" Ardyn had lain down as well. Now he propped himself up on one elbow to look at Cor. "She should reach the In Between within seconds. To find whatever she is searching for could take a few minutes."

It had been more than a few minutes.

"Then again," Ardyn said, "She hasn't _actually _done any of this before. I'm sure Dreaming from a conscious sleep is more difficult than from within a Dream."

"So you're saying she might not be able to?"

"That is precisely what I am saying. The little Dreamer will simply have to learn to Dream again."

"Can you do anything to help?" Cor could hardly believe he had asked it, but the words came from his mouth.

"Me? _Help_? Perish the thought, Lion." Ardyn fixed Cor with an unsettling smile.

"You're the only one who seems to know anything about this shit." Though it hurt to admit they needed help from the imperial chancellor. Former imperial chancellor.

"Oh I certainly am. Dear Daddy has not ventured so far in his magic. Perhaps he can't. Or perhaps he is a coward."

Cor left the bait where Ardyn set it.

"Then do something for her," he said.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Lion, you should know I never do anything except for purely selfish motivations. Why would I help her Dream?"

"Because I think you like her. Whatever that means in your twisted mind," Cor said. "I think you've got a soft spot and you're trying to hide it. And doing a damn poor job."

"Not as poorly as you."

"I'm not trying to hide anything."

"Oh no?" Ardyn's grin stretched. When Cor failed to rise to this bait as well, he sighed and settled on his back. He put his hat over his face. "Goodnight, Lion. Enjoy your sleepless night babysitting a Dreamless Dreamer."

Cor leaned back and fought the urge to punch him. It wouldn't do any good. Besides, Reina was between them. He would wake her up.

If he let her sleep, would she eventually Dream? Or was she locked out for the whole night? Did she have a better chance of sleeping through the night if he woke her, told her to stop trying to Dream, and let her go back to sleep? Maybe, but then he would have to spend another hour convincing her to sleep at all.

He would just have to wait. All night, if necessary.

He made sure Reina was settled before sitting up. He put his back against the cliff to keep himself awake, and settled one hand on her shoulder. Hopefully that would be enough to warn him of any changes.

It was going to be a long night. Longer still for his climb up this damn mountain. But it had been worth it in the end.

Reina inhaled sharply and didn't exhale. She was still asleep, just as calm as before. He counted seconds. When her next breath finally came it was not in the same slow, steady pace from before. Was she Dreaming? Or had she just reached—what had Ardyn called it?—the In Between?

He had been expecting a definitive sign. Every other Dream he had witnessed had ended in Reina screaming like daemons were dropping out of the sky and flailing fit to fight them off. But this time she was only breathing—too quietly and consciously—as if she was awake. But not.

A minute later she jerked in her sleep. She twisted, back contorting, hands closing into fists. A pained grimace crossed her face.

"Reina?" Cor reached out to her, forgetting he wouldn't be able to wake her. Only Regis could do that.

Ardyn lifted one hand.

"She isn't Dreaming," he said from underneath his hat. "Not in any real sense. The Draconian has sunk his claws into her."

"What?" He said the god they were hunting had her in his grasp like it was just another sunrise. "We have to wake her!"

"She's not in danger." Ardyn removed his hat and sat up. "Yet. Let them have their battle of wits. If you wake her, she'll only be running away from a fight."

"A fight that can't hurt her." It sounded even more stupid when Cor said it.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Tsk, Lion. You really are a simple lapcat, aren't you?" He twirled his hat in his hands. "You can't trust me for anything."

He smiled and for a moment it seemed to stretch farther, wider than possible, as his lips grew dark around the corners. Then it was gone. Trick of the light.

"But you said yourself," he said, "She is _my _Dreamer. And I am the black blood that flows in her veins."

A disturbing thought, in both directions. Cor decided to leave that one where it was, too.

Reina was still sleeping—if it could be called that—still tense, but not writhing or screaming. The grimace on her face had turned to something more closely resembling a snarl. Ardyn had said himself he couldn't be trusted. Cor knew he should wake her up. If she was stuck in a Dream the sooner she was out the better.

In spite of that, he found himself believing one thing about Ardyn.

He did like her.

Maybe it was fascination or morbid curiosity. Maybe it was something altogether different and much larger. But something brought him back to her time and time again. Something had drawn him to her during her ten year Dream and it wasn't exclusive to a non-existent future.

Cor let her go. He counted seconds, telling himself he would give her five minutes and no more. If she could Dream ten years in one night, five minutes should have been enough to see plenty. If she wasn't back by then he would wake her himself or—failing that—call Regis.

In the end, he didn't have to wait that long.

It was a minute later, give or take, when Reina sat upright with a gasping inhale.

"Reina!"

She stared straight ahead wheezing as she caught her breath. Cor took her shoulders, turning her to face him. Sometimes she seemed awake before Regis called out to her. Cor wasn't satisfied that she was really back in her body until she locked her eyes on him.

"Cor," she said, once she could speak. "It's alright—I'm fine."

Words that had come to mean nothing at all from her.

"Did you Dream?" He asked.

"No. I reached the In Between, thanks to Ardyn, but Bahamut found me. He pulled me out of the black river before I could look ahead and find the future."

Cor glanced past her to Ardyn, who had lain back down. A smug smile twisted across Ardyn's face. So he had helped after all. And he had been telling the truth about Bahamut as well. Bastard.

"Are you going to try again?" Cor asked.

"No. Not tonight. I suspect he's watching."

Hell.

"Then you'd better go to sleep," Cor said.

"I'll try," she said, in that dubious tone that made it clear she wouldn't try very hard.

"You're going to do more than try." Cor laid back down, dragging her with him until she was flat on her back once more. "Even if I have to knock you unconscious."

She smiled. It wasn't a comment that deserved a smile, but she gave him one anyway.


	33. Reina, Taking a Leap

_Day 41:_

She reached.

Before, it had been as simple as walking. All she had to do was step into the In-Between and view the world from outside time. But perhaps that was only because she had been in the In-Between all along. It was only ever an inch away. Now she stood on the ground and reached for the sky.

No matter how she stretched, she would never be able to touch it.

_Take the leap, little Dreamer._

He shouldn't have been in her mind, not here, when her mind was her own and not some extension of the In-Between where her whole world was only a Dream. But the magic between them allowed him to find her, to look in on her from beyond and above.

_You gain nothing for nothing. Take the risk. Let go. Leap off the edge._

But if she let go of her body, she would only be lost again. Ten years of horror. Ten years she could still hardly even think about but for being pulled back into them.

_You have to want it._

And she did. Enough to lay down with the intention of Dreaming, knowing the risks. If she failed, she would continue along blindly with no notion of whether or not Father and the others were in any danger in Insomnia. Without any notion of whether Cor was in danger with her.

She let go.

She tumbled into black nothingness. She plunged into the river of time and was swept up, choking and coughing. Before she knew which way was up and which was down, a giant hand reached after her, clawing her out of the stream, dragging her away from the physical realm, and dropping her in an endless emptiness—bare of anything, save the Draconian himself.

_:Thou cannot win, O Dreamer. Thou cannot save thy kin.:_

"I will."

_:Thou cannot. Thou seeks to protect thy home, yet thou hast abandoned it. Wouldst thou leave thy father and brother to their fate in pursuit of vengeance?:_

"It isn't vengeance. This is the preservation of what I love."

_:Whatever thou callest it, it matters little. That which thou lovest stands unguarded. Thou art past thy time; the darkness in which thou thrivest is gone. Without, thou art but a shell. I need merely turn my attention upon thy homeland and destroy all that thou holdest dear.:_

"You wouldn't dare kill Noctis," she said, though even as she did, she wondered if it was true. "You need him to destroy the scourge."

Didn't he?

_:Thy rage blindest thee. The Chosen King's fate hast been arranged in consideration of mortal life. He is the gift we granted thee, that mankind might live on. But his is not the only method.:_

"A gift? You think killing my brother is a gift?"

_:For thee, perhaps not. But for thy kind.:_

"I care nothing for my _kind_." What were humans but the leeches that fed on Caelum blood? "But I will die before I allow you to harm my family again."

_:Then thou shalt die in vain, and so shalt they. Each one that thou lovest will meet with the same. Thou cannot escape the pull of fate. Follow the path laid before thee, or suffer worse at mine hands.:_

He let her go.

All at once she was thrust out of the In-Between and back into her own body. It took her nearly a minute to believe she was in her body, even with Cor calling out to her, even with the fire crackling and the heat of the volcano rising up from the earth. And even when she could believe it was real, she nearly didn't want to.

She was still no wiser. Father could have been in danger or it could have been merely a ruse to convince Reina to turn back around and abandon her task. Could she risk giving Bahamut what he wanted? Could she risk leaving Father, Noctis, Ignis, and Iris all unprotected in Insomnia?

Either way, he won.

Either way, he had some other plan in mind. And all she could do was hope to kill him before he could kill her.

She needed to move faster.


	34. Iris, Joining Up

_Day 42:_

"It's about time you guys showed up—holy heck, what happened to you, Cor?"

Cor looked down, like he hadn't noticed his shirt and pants were covered in blood.

"Nothing," he said. "The hell are you doing out here?"

"You drove me," Iris said. No need to disclose the rest of the story. You know. That part where she had spent several hours locked in a trunk and becoming well acquainted with the tire iron and spare tire? Yeah. That part.

Cor looked at Rei. Rei looked at Iris, and she looked confused about it.

"Why?" She asked.

Iris shrugged. "You went missing. You think I could leave Cor to do something important that doesn't include stabbing something?"

Cor crossed his arms over his chest. Iris took a step back. Just in case.

Rei didn't look convinced.

"Look. I'm part of your retinue, right?" Iris said. "And I'm an Amicitia. We always protect the Caelums."

And also she was tired of sitting around at home while Dad and Gladdy both had important things to do and the whole world was busy except her. But never mind that part.

"How endearing." Ardyn came up behind Reina. "What a happy family you've made, little Dreamer."

Iris wrinkled her nose. "You brought him, but not me? Sheesh. Thought you had better taste."

"He's important," she said. "And you're not enemies."

"Yet." Ardyn smiled. Creepy.

"O-kay. So. Where are we off to next?" Iris asked.

"_We_ aren't going anywhere. You're going back to Insomnia," Cor said.

"How? You drove me here," Iris said. "I'm not gonna walk back."

Cor looked at Reina.

"We can't go back," she said. "Not yet." She looked at Iris. "But I don't want you in danger."

Sheesh. Did everyone think she was a kid? "Look, I wasn't sitting at home when Niflheim attacked, okay? I was out there keeping the emperor on the ground with Cor and Ignis. And in case you forgot, I was up in that ship with you, too!"

Still, Rei wasn't giving in.

"Look, you need someone, because Cor looks like he went through a meat grinder and I happened to make some friends in Ravatogh last night. And I _know _you didn't bring any luggage." Because she had been in the trunk, where luggage was supposed to go. But she didn't say that part. "I'm sure I could score some showers, a change of clothes, and breakfast."

They all looked at each other again. Reina even looked at Ardyn, who shrugged colorfully.

"Alright," Rei said eventually. "I guess you're staying. Let's get cleaned up."

"Now you're talking!" Iris grinned. "There's a guy outside the general store that makes some really good fried chicken."

They drove down the street to Verinas Mart. Not like it was far to walk, but that made it a little faster. Good thing she hadn't actually managed to kick through one of the back seats or else the trip would have been way more awkward and a bit uncomfortable for four people.

The people she'd met in the little outpost were accommodating and friendly. Everyone got a shower and Cor even got a new shirt. Which was good, since the other one was halfway missing.

After that they were on the road again. Rei never gave much information about where they were going, just told Cor where to turn and when to stop. They ended up at the end of a dirt road past a rotting wood sign that said 'Malmalam Thicket' and something about 'Do Not Enter,' but they were with royalty, so what did that really matter?

Iris had never seen so many trees in one place. The road they'd come from had disappeared and it was just wild all around and a thin dirt trail leading deeper in.

"You should stay with the car," Reina said.

"What, me?" Iris asked.

"Both of you." She glanced at Cor.

Yeah, right. Had she met Cor?

"It could be dangerous," she said. "I don't want anyone getting hurt. Again."

She looked pointedly at Cor when she said that. Ouch. Whatever he'd done to mess up his shirt and get covered in blood, it sure hadn't earned him any points with Reina.

"And I don't want _you _getting hurt." Cor crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll be fine," she said.

She said that a lot. Usually she said it when she was looking really _not _fine, so that kind of took some of the weight out of it.

"Are you going to stop me from following you?" Cor asked.

"I could order you to stay," she said.

"You could," Cor said. But he wasn't going to listen to that order, if Iris knew anything about him.

Reina sighed and turned down the path. "Very well."

They went along with. She led them through the forest along a bunch of twisting dirt trails like she'd been through here a hundred times before. Maybe she had. No one knew what had happened during those ten years she had Dreamed. Or hardly anything about it, anyway.

Eventually she led them into a cavern. Except it was open on top, so it was more of a… crevasse? Something like that. There were definitely things living inside. Like the biggest bugs Iris had ever seen in her life and hoped never to see again.

Who knows what Rei was worried about, though. She killed everything before Cor even drew his sword. She moved like a ghost, just barely visible for the instants when she struck before disappearing in a purple flash. Iris forgot to watch anything else. The only sound was Reina's blade and giant bug bodies hitting the ground.

When nothing else was moving, Reina landed on the ground, dusted herself off, and straightened. Ardyn was leaning against the rock wall, grinning in that creepy way. He hadn't bothered to draw a weapon—if he even had one. Cor was still standing at the ready, katana in hand.

It was about then Iris realized she hadn't brought a weapon. Drat. That was really going to help her reputation here.

"Hey, um, Rei? I know Noctis shares magic with Gladdy so Gladdy always has a sword with him, and you don't want me to fight but maybe… just in case…?" Iris said.

Reina considered her. Who knew what she was thinking, because it sure wasn't written on her face. Finally she said, "If you want," and held her hand out.

Iris took it. There was a burst of purple light and warmth wrapped up around her like a great big hug. The light glowed all around her and finally sank into her skin, leaving her with this weird awareness of the air around her. Like her sense of touch extended an inch beyond her skin, everywhere.

When the glow stopped, Reina's released her.

"Let's go," Reina said.

"Reina," Cor called after her. "Don't use the ring unless you have to. It's too expensive."

She stopped, glanced over her shoulder at him, and smiled. Not like a friendly smile or a happy smile, but something a little bit creepy and a little bit like the one Ardyn had been wearing.

"I didn't," she said.

So that was just her, then. Iris hadn't seen many Caelums fight. King Regis never did because, well, he was the king and he held the Wall and all that, and when Noctis sparred with Gladdy he never moved like that. Yeah, Iris had been at the warehouses and then in the Magitek ship with Rei on Daemonfire, but she had been paying more attention to not getting shot and not crashing at the time.

Iris jogged to catch up with Cor. "Was that just Caelum magic?"

"I guess so," Cor said.

They had to hurry to follow after Rei by then. The rest of the thicket went about the same way. They slogged through a knee-deep creek, but the water never seemed to slow Reina down. It was probably better that way, because Iris would have had a hard time kicking some of the stuff in here. At least MTs kept both their feet on the ground.

There was a beast five times as tall as Cor on four legs at the end. The whole thing looked like it was made out of spikes and tusks and teeth. Cor did manage to get his sword out in time to hit that one, but only a couple times before it gave up under Rei's onslaught.

She was _so cool_.

If Cor was impressed that she could have taken something like that down by herself he didn't say anything. But he usually didn't say anything. And he usually didn't look like anything except a little bit grumpy all the time and that was what he looked like now, so probably he wasn't really grumpy.

Just normal grumpy.

After the monster was just a heap on the ground Rei led them through a pair of carved stone doors that looked really out of place in there. Inside was a tomb, complete with a sarcophagus with a statue laying on top.

"What is this place?" Iris whispered to Cor. It felt like the kind of place that should be whispered in.

"A royal tomb," Cor said. "The final resting place of a king of Lucis."

Reina stood before the sarcophagus and something happened that Iris didn't understand. A scepter rose up out of the grave but it was made out of blue light, like when Noctis used his magic. It lifted up and slammed into Reina's chest and all of her seemed to glow as nine violet glaives formed around her in a circle. The scepter was one of them.

She waved her hand. The glaives vanished and took the light with them.

"Let's go." Reina turned around. "Hammerhead. I need to ask for a favor."


	35. Regis, Making Contact

Day 42

The door to his study flew open without so much as a warning knock.

Clarus strode in, looking properly harried. "Regis. My daughter is missing."

"Missing?" Regis rose.

"I saw her yesterday morning when I left, but have just received word that she is not at home and her bed has not been slept in. Gladiolus is as much at a loss as I am."

He stared at Regis and Regis at him: a father whose daughter was gone without a trace. It was an altogether too-familiar feeling. At least Regis' had left a note. Those two events, however, were unlikely to be independent from each other.

"If she disappeared yesterday then I suspect she has gone after Reina," Regis said.

"How? She has no notion of where Princess Reina went and no way to reach her even if she did."

"That I do not have an answer for," Regis said. "Though we do not know for certain that she has no information on Reina's whereabouts."

More concerning was the fact that, when Regis had spoken to Reina the night before, she had mentioned being accompanied by Ardyn and Cor but no one else. Was it possible that Iris had gone after them but not found them?

"Her phone?" Regis asked.

"Dead," Clarus said. "Or else without reception. Any call goes directly to voicemail."

Unsurprising, if she was outside the Crown City. Companies had been largely isolated from the Outlands by the Wall and the closed gates. When none of their customers ever left Insomnia, cellular companies had no reason to erect towers outside Cavaugh. Reina's phone was the exception, not the rule. There was but one company that covered both the Crown City and the Outlands, which provided the Kingsglaive with clear communications when they left the Crown City. Before their departure, Noctis and Reina had both received phones on that network for much the same reason.

Regis slipped his phone from his pocket and tapped Reina's number. She had been atop the Rock of Ravatogh last night. He had no guarantee her phone would still hold a charge.

It rang. Reina answered after the second.

"_Father. Is everything alright?"_

"Perhaps. Do you know the whereabouts of Iris?"

"_She's sitting right next to me."_

Regis gave Clarus a curt nod. He exhaled, seeming to deflate in his relief.

"Will you pass her the phone, my dear? I believe Clarus would like a word." Regis offered his to Clarus.

He listened to one side of a worried conversation. The conclusion, he gathered from Clarus' words and the look on his face, was that Iris had no intention of returning to Insomnia until Reina did so.

Clarus hung up the phone and slammed it on Regis' desk.

"Like father, like daughter," Regis said.

"Don't you dare start with me."

Only decades of diplomatic experience kept Regis' face straight. He met Clarus' gaze levelly.

"I should send Gladiolus after her. Or follow after myself," Clarus said.

"Did she give any indication of where they were going?"

Clarus looked sharply at him, then turned away. "No."

"Ah."

"Oh, shut up. You don't have to be so smug about it," Clarus said.

"I have said very nearly nothing at all."

"No, but you're thinking it loudly."


	36. Reina, Slipping Away

_Day 42:_

Don't stop. Don't think. Don't feel.

It was easiest when she was fighting. She could do that without thinking. There was almost a peace to it. Death was something she was an expert in, so maybe that was what she would do in this lifetime; once she had ruled the kingdom in Noctis' stead, now she lived in the shadows and preserved the life of everyone who mattered by dealing death to those who didn't.

It had been easier before Cor and Iris had found her. Now she had to see them, hear them, speak to them, because they wanted to know where they were going or what they were doing next. It wasn't that Reina didn't want them to know. It wasn't even that she didn't want to be around them. She did. It was everything she wanted—or at least representative of everything she wanted. But every time she caught Cor's gaze or heard Iris' voice, she remembered what she had done to them.

She didn't deserve friends like them. She was a monster underneath all this and someday they would realize it and walk away again. At least in her Dream, the ugly interior had begun to show through. Now she just looked like a person. So they thought she was.

The car was the worst.

How many hours had she spent in the back of the Regalia with Noctis and his friends? How many miles of Lucian countryside had she watched fly past the window. Just like this.

Father was still alive. Insomnia had never fallen. It was seven fifty-six.

They drove all the way across Lucis twice. Once to Hammerhead, once back toward Meldacio. Sometimes she closed her eyes and hoped it would all go away: the irrational emotions that gripped her chest and took hold of her mind and body. She knew. She knew logically that there was no reason to feel what she felt: the terror, the sadness, the mind-numbing emptiness and endless desire for death. This was life. This was waking life and everything she had been wishing for over the last ten years.

If only she could feel it instead of wallowing in a life she had never lived.

Sometimes she couldn't tell which emotions were real and important, and which ones were caused by some inescapable memory of a time that had never happened. Sometimes all she could do was just close all of them out and try not to feel anything at all. She'd gotten good at that in her Dream.

But there was one thing that was real. It didn't matter if it was from a memory or not; she needed to protect her family. Her friends. Regardless of what they did or didn't think of her, she needed them to be safe and well and whole. She couldn't do what she had done to them before. She wouldn't let anything hurt them so much ever again.

They reached Meldacio near dusk. Steyliff Grove was a stone's throw away, but they rented the caravan anyway. Cor had been driving all day and every time he stood up he moved stiffly. He had stayed up late the night before looking after her. He could use the rest. Iris was her usual self. Or what had been usual for her ten years ago. It was almost refreshing.

And Ardyn… Well. Ardyn knew Reina, and he knew she had no intention of dragging the other two through Steyliff when she could do it herself.

It wasn't as if she was going to sleep anyway.


	37. Iris, Chasing After

_Day 42:_

"Iris."

Someone shook her awake in the dark of the caravan.

"Wha…?"

"Reina is gone," said Cor.

Iris sat upright and narrowly missed slamming her head into the underside of Cor's bunk.

"Where?" She clambered out of bed and reached for her boots. Cor was already fully dressed and moving toward the door.

"She's gone to Steyliff Grove, of course." In the bunk above Reina's, Ardyn was lounging, undisturbed. He had his hat over his face but underneath he was smiling. "Going to charge in after her? You two are so cute."

"Should have known this would happen," Cor said. "She won't have taken the car. If we hurry we can still catch her."

No one was asking the important question.

"Why didn't you go with her?" Iris pointed a finger at Ardyn.

"Oh, I will." Ardyn's smile stretched and twisted. "But I thought I'd linger long enough to watch the chaos unfold."

Ardyn dissolved. Black mist billowed out from his bunk, swept around Iris, and seeped through the cracks in the caravan.

"We're going," Cor said.

"How fast can we get there?" Iris asked.

The answer turned out to be 'too fast.' Whoever had designed Reina's car had included enough horsepower to light a whole city. The road zipped by outside, a black blur. Maybe it was better it was dark out there. She didn't have to think about how fast they would slam into the side of the cliff on a bad turn if she couldn't see the cliff. Just don't look at the headlights. Yeah. That was best.

When Cor finally stopped the car outside Steyliff Grove, Iris' head was filled with tingling numbness. They were still alive?

They were still alive.

She was never driving with Cor again.

"Light?" Cor held one out to her.

Iris blinked. They were standing outside some sort of carved stone ruins. There were lights here, but not normal lights. Like. Glowing orange lights inside the stone. Somehow she didn't think they were powered by whatever power company did the street lights out here. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be enough once they went through those gaping black doors. She fumbled for the light and clipped it to the front of her shirt with shaking hands.

"Let's move," said Cor.

Steyliff Grove was a maze of interconnecting hallways, wide chambers with crumbling bridges, and a worrying number of bones. Cor raced through and it was all Iris could do to chase after him. Too bad his legs were twice as long.

Aside from the bones, there wasn't a lot else. Nothing moving except the two of them. Maybe a couple spiders. No daemons, thank goodness, but now that she thought about it, shouldn't there have been daemons? A great big dark ruin in the middle of a swamp and there weren't even daemons? Who wrote this story? Rei couldn't have killed them all, right? Or else they would have just come back. Probably. Maybe. Okay, honestly, Iris didn't really know much about daemons, but they sure weren't here, and whatever the reason was, it was good by her.

They walked through a room that couldn't exist. It didn't make any sense. How could they be looking up through the bottom of the lake? But they were. There were fish and she could see the moon and everything. Iris stumbled a couple steps looking at floating fish instead of where she was putting her feet before Cor grabbed her arm. He pointed up ahead. It wasn't until then that she realized she could hear combat up there.

She gave Cor a nod and they both broke into a run. Charging head-first into a fight. Yup. No way this could end poorly. But hey, Cor was going in first, so if something pounced and cut his head off, she could just turn tail and run, right? Yeah, okay, maybe not so much.

Purple lights burst up ahead. So it was definitely Reina, and now that they were closer they could hear… wings? What was even going on up there?

The roar of some huge beast echoed through the halls and nearly knocked Iris clear off her feet. But Cor didn't stop running, so neither did she. When the hallway dumped them into the room ahead, it was like they had left the ruins altogether. They were standing on the edge of an enormous room—Iris couldn't even see the walls or the ceiling. But she could see Reina. And she could see the thing that had roared loud enough to render her deaf in one and a half ears. It was a… bird? Maybe? A wyvern? She'd never seen one of those, but it was definitely big enough to fit the stories.

Reina walked straight down the center of the room like that giant bird monster didn't bother her. The Armiger spun around her, a whirlwind of blades cutting at the beast whenever it got too close to her. She hardly even looked at it. She hardly looked anywhere except toward the far end of the room—whatever she was after must have been down there.

"Charging in, are we?" Ardyn asked.

Iris spun to find him leaning against the wall by the entrance.

He smiled. Yup. Still creepy. "Do you really think she needs your help? How sweet. And idiotic."

"Reina!" Cor's blade appeared from nowhere in a burst of blue light. Must have been the king's magic, because Reina's was purple. He was on his way down the hall nearly before Reina turned.

When she did turn her eyes widened. "Cor—no!"

The beast dove for him. Cor rolled to one side, neatly missing the talons and turning to face it.

So they were charging in now. O-kay. Iris reached for the magic Reina had loaned her and drew her sword. While Cor's appeared with blue magic, Iris' matched Reina's: violet all the way through. She thought she heard Ardyn sigh behind her.

"Iris, Cor—go back!" A barrage of spectral arms assailed the beast one after another in an unending flow.

"You any good with that?" Cor asked Iris.

"Stopped the emperor, didn't I?" Iris asked.

The beast dove again, trying to escape Reina's Armiger. This time Cor parried the talons, twisting his katana and holding long enough for Iris to strike at one scaled leg. Her blade bit into flesh. It was too dark to tell what color it bled. But it did bleed.

"One old man." Cor grunted, shoving the beast away and cutting across its foot.

"Look." Iris set her stance. "If you don't think Dad's training is good enough, you can teach me your own tricks after this."

When the beast came back, she lunged to the side and came up behind, leaving a gash across the underside of its tail.

"I might just." Cor grunted, holding talons at bay while Iris drove her sword in deeper toward the beast's abdomen.

It took to the air again.

Reina reached them. "Are you alright?"

She looked them over, like she thought they were just kids. Sheesh. Elders had no respect for their juniors these days. Motion caught Iris' eye before she could think of a fitting response. It was coming back down. She lifted her sword as it dove, claws outstretched and—

All four sets of talons slammed into a solid barrier, glimmering luminescent violet in the dark. It covered Iris and Cor completely.

"Reina!" Cor struck it from the inside. Nothing happened, save the twang of metal again magic.

Reina stood on the outside. The Ring of the Lucii blazed on her finger—the power of over one hundred generations of kings swept around her, lifting her off her feet and turning her Armiger into a storm of blades as if the glaive of every Lucian monarch whirled at her fingertips.

Iris' blade went slack in her hand. The Armiger gave Reina wings, the Lucii gave her power—it danced over her skin and burst on the beast whenever its claws came too close to her. In seconds the whole monster was just a pile of feathers and scales on the floor.

Reina landed back on her feet. The barrier around them dissolved. When she turned to face them her skin was still alight with the magic; it sank back into her body bit by bit, leaving faint white lines or ashy cracks, which slowly faded into flawless skin.

Iris was too awed even to be irked that she had locked them away like something to be protected.

Cor wasn't.


	38. Cor, Lecturing

_Day 42:_

"What the hell were you thinking?" Cor's blade vanished as he advanced on her. He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her once until her head tilted back to look at him.

"You know what I was thinking," she said distantly.

"You can't keep doing this, Reina." He knew he shouldn't have been shouting at her, shaking her like he could force some sense into her. He was only going to make everything worse.

Her eyes went distant. Dead. Staring through him, not at him. "I need to protect you."

But Gods damn it, if she would just admit that she wasn't alright, that she needed someone or something or _anything_.

"I don't need to be protected! And stop using that Gods damned ring!" He forced himself to let go of her before he shook her again.

The ashy lines had faded away on her face and neck, so far as he could see in this light. But her arms were hidden beneath long gloves. Every time she used that magic, she payed for it. It wasn't worth the cost.

"I'm fine," she said. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you? Because it looks to me like you're too busy worrying about other people to see anything at all. A day will come when you can't afford to spend the attention or energy on making sure everyone else is safe. You're just going to have to trust that we can do that ourselves."

"I'm not strong enough to do that." She turned away.

He grabbed her arm and turned her back. "Then you'd better damn well get stronger. Or you're going to get yourself killed because you're paying attention to where I'm standing instead of where you're standing."

Her eyes widened, just for a moment, and her breath stopped even though her lips parted. The distant, empty look cracked. Underneath she was just broken. A tear ran down her cheek.

Shit.

He had known. He had damn well known and he had done it anyway.

He let go of her arm but she never moved. Just kept on staring straight ahead for what seemed like a solid minute before she crumpled. Her head dropped, her hands covered her face.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop…" She whispered. Not to him. "Please stop…"

"Reina…" Cor touched her shoulders cautiously. She didn't pull away.

Hell if he knew what to do with this but he was the one who had started it and he wasn't walking away without fixing it. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She went. Wasn't clear if she knew he was there or not. Not until she hugged him back a minute later and buried her face against his chest. She gripped the back of his shirt and he hugged her tighter. Maybe that helped. Maybe he was just squeezing her so tight she couldn't breathe, but eventually she did stop crying. Then she stood there leaning against him and breathing uneven, shallow breaths.

They were still standing in some daemon-infested ruin.

"Come on." Cor squeezed her once more and released her. "Let's get out of here."

She pulled away, looked at him, and ran both hands over her cheeks to dry them. She was still unsteady. Still not okay. And still pretending she was.

"We need the mythril." Her voice shook when she spoke, however hard she tried to sound fine.

They found whatever she had come for in the next room. After that they followed her out, listening to the sound of their own footsteps echoing in the silent halls.

Cor drove back to Meldacio at a more reasonable speed than he had left it. Iris wasn't sitting next to him, gripping the edges of her seat like she thought that was the only way she was going to stay in it. Somehow he didn't think Ardyn was worried about mortality.

Nothing had changed in Meldacio. It seemed wrong that a whole outpost could sleep through what had just happened, but it was probably better. Wasn't any of their concern what Reina did or didn't do. Everything in the trailer was just how they'd left it: beds in disarray, Cor's coat on the floor, and the door swinging open.

Cor dragged a chair inside and sat at the foot of Reina's bunk, arms crossed over his chest.

"You should get some sleep," she said. As if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just broken down because he had grabbed her arm. As if she hadn't just spent five minutes sobbing into his chest.

They were pretending everything was fine. Eventually he was going to get sick of this charade. He was already sick of it. But he played along because he had already yelled at her once tonight and she didn't need anything else on her plate.

Didn't mean she was getting off the hook.

"So you can run off again?" He asked.

"Where would I go?"

"If I knew the answer to that, I'd be more comfortable letting you sleep unsupervised."

Reina sighed. "I've already accomplished what we came to do."

"You tell a convincing lie these days," Cor said.

The others had climbed into their bunks already, though Iris watched their exchange intently. Ardyn was, as usual, unconcerned about everything going on around him.

"What can I do to convince you?" She asked.

"Nothing. Now go to sleep," he said.

"You know I can't."

"After all that?"

The last royal glaive on Lucian soil, a fourteen hour drive to opposite corners of Lucis, and one galavant through some ancient ruins and she still wasn't sleeping.

She shrugged, staring at her bed with distaste.

"Then lay down and pretend like you're sleeping." Cor leaned back in his chair. What hours remained of the night would be long—but not as long as tomorrow. He would worry about the problem of what to do tomorrow night when he reached it.

She unlaced her boots, pulled off her cloak and her shoulder-length gloves, and climbed into her bed. From where he sat he could see her eyes closed. She didn't move again for a while.

One by one they fell asleep. Iris, satisfied that nothing else was going to happen, was the first. It was difficult to tell with Ardyn, but as far as Cor could see, he also drifted off. Reina lay in precisely the same position, so still he half wondered if that was her at all or some new trick. If she had fallen asleep he couldn't tell. If she was awake, he couldn't tell either.

Not until she spoke. "I'm going to try to Dream again."

It was quiet enough that he had no doubt she meant the words for him alone.

"Don't you dare. Just go to sleep."

"I need to see." She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. "You know why."

And she hadn't managed to last night.

Cor sighed. He rose from his chair and sat on the end of her bunk instead, where he could tell when she fell asleep. "You have thirty minutes from the second you fall asleep. After that I'm waking you up, Dream or no Dream. If I can't, I'll call Regis."

"That's fair."

"Good." Because he hadn't been planning to negotiate.

She tossed and turned more when she was actually trying to fall asleep. Then she would get all worked up because she couldn't, which only made her less likely to.

"Stop it." Cor laid his hand across her shins. "Choose one position and stay there. Stop trying to fall asleep and just do it."

"How can I fall asleep if I'm not trying?" Her face might have been blank, but the frustration he expected bled out in her voice.

"That's usually when it happens."

She fell still and silent. For a little while. When she started to move again he squeezed her leg in reminder.

"You can put yourself to sleep. You're not a child."

With the drama she fit in that sigh, she might still have been an adolescent, though.

She rolled onto her other side so she could look at him. "Cor, I haven't slept straight in ten years."

"This is a good time to start."

"I _can't_."

"Not while you're talking to me, you can't. Now shut up. Close your eyes. Find somewhere comfortable—last chance. Don't think about sleeping. Don't worry about how you can't Dream if you can't sleep. Don't worry about how Regis is getting by back in Insomnia. He's fine. Think about something mundane. Peaceful."

There was enough light from the lamps outside to see her face by. Stillness was broken by growing frustration. A furrow formed between her brows. The muscles along her jaw flexed.

Cor squeezed her leg again. "Think of something else. You remember the combat lessons I gave you?"

He hadn't. Not in this lifetime. But the way she fought and what she had said about her Dream told him he had, somewhere in her past, even if not in his.

"The blocking drill," he said, "Run through it in your mind. Then the next one. Every pattern you can pull from your memory, step through it. Square your feet. Lift your staff. And don't you dare get sloppy."

He thought he saw a smile. Could have been a trick of the light.

The frustration drained from her features. So did the tension from her body. In its place was the blank focus that filled a mind when muscle memory took control. And maybe something like peace. They were alike that way.

He guessed ten minutes before she fell asleep that way. She couldn't have gone far through her drills in that time, if he had taught her everything he knew. Which meant she had been exhausted and keeping herself up in restless frustration. Or just keeping herself up because she didn't want to sleep. But if he could get her to lay down and close her eyes, maybe he could force her to get some rest sometimes.

From the moment he heard her breathing shift to the slow steady pace that signaled sleep, he timed her. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Somewhere along the way he saw the second shift—the one that meant she had reached what she called the Black River. And somewhere after that, with tension growing in her body and her hands clenched into fists, tears began to stream past her temples to wet her hair. He fought with himself over waking her up then, but kept his word to her.

Thirty minutes.

Cor leaned forward to touch her shoulder. "Reina. Wake up."

Even though it had taken her an hour to get to sleep in the first place.

"_Reina._" He tried again, more firmly but still low enough not to wake Iris or Ardyn. If that didn't work it was time for a phone call. He would wake Regis at three in the morning for this. Regis wouldn't even be mad.

He hadn't thought it would work. But her eyes opened wide and she stared straight past him before she looked at him. She shook her head. No Dreams.

"He's keeping me out. Or in, rather. I can feel him watching me as soon as I reach the In-Between," she said. "Maybe even outside it."

"The Draconian?"

"Yes."

Given the choice, he would not have handed her Bahamut over a Dream—no matter what Cor thought of her Dreams, at least they weren't consciously trying to kill her. But now was not the time for that talk.

"Go back to sleep," he said. "For real this time. You need it."

She opened her mouth, an objection on her lips, but stopped. "Fine. I'll try."

"Pick up where you left off. The last step you remember."

He lost track of time, waiting for her to fall asleep again. She must have, or else he would never have let his guard down enough to drift off himself. He also had no recollection of laying down next to her, but when he woke in the morning they were both crammed into a too-small bunk.


	39. Reina, in the In-Between

_Day 42:_

It was easier to reach the In-Between this time. She just had to want it enough to put aside her fear and take the risk even knowing what could happen—what had already happened. But if she couldn't Dream, she would be blind.

She was blind.

Bahamut was waiting for her. She felt him as soon as she dropped into the In-Between. Before she could so much as glance ahead or orient herself in this realm, he was dragging her away.

_:Thou hast been warned twice, O Dreamer. Now thou hast lured yet one more into the danger that surrounds thee.:_

"I didn't—"

_:Thy intentions hold no weight. Thy companions follow thy path, whether thou willest them or not. And thou hast chosen to lead down the path that will culminate in their inevitable demise.:_

"I won't let you harm them." If she had had fists, they would have been clenched.

_:And in leading them here, thou hast opened thyself to them. Darkness is in thy soul. Thy kin shall see the truth before long, however thou hidest from them. Wilt thou live on as a lie, forevermore? Or wilt thou admit thy own sins and face that same abandonment that hast reduced thee to a sniveling child?:_

His words struck true in her heart, rendering her frozen at his mercy. Had she truly left them behind to protect them? Or to protect herself? If they came, they would see what she was. They would know the truth and, just as surely as they had done in her Dream, they would turn away. They would hate her. They would abandon her.

_:Thou hast not even the strength to face thy fears. Thou art crippled by them. Thou fleest, but thou shalt not escape. Thy past will out. Thinkest thou that thy plans will come to fruition? Once a seer, thou art now blinded to all but the past.:_

She could not Dream. He would not allow her to. Indeed, it was rare even for her to see the present on some days. Those memories of dark years were too strong to escape.

_:If, by some miracle, thy plans bore fruit, thy would be left as thou lived before. Already thou slinkest, like a robber in thy own home. Thou art a creature of shadow in a world of light and so shalt thou remain. Thy only recourse is death. Thou traded thy life for thy brother's. Thy might do so again, if thou wishest. But thy father must die. It is his fate. If thou wishes to savest the others, this thou must accept. Elsewise, all will fall to darkness.:_

She fled from the darkness of the In Between and returned to the waking world when Cor called. For all that she feared shutting her eyes again, she must have done so at his urging, for the next thing she remembered was sunlight pouring through the windows of the caravan and Cor's arms around her as he slept on.

* * *

**AN:** Super short this week, I know. I apologize. Next week's is longer. Also full of Ignis. Stay tuned!


	40. Ignis, Questioning Decisions

_Day 41 - 43_

Noctis slumped into the royal lounge. He seemed, to all appearances, to be in one piece still. That was a positive result, certainly. Then again, he had that distant shell-shocked quality about him, which suggested he may not have been altogether whole _inside_.

"Well?" Gladio asked. "How'd it go?"

"You know how dads do that thing," Noct said, "Where they're like 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed,' and it's way worse than when they're mad at you?"

Gladio and Ignis nodded. Prompto shrugged.

"Yeah, my dad doesn't do that," Noct said. "He's mad _and _disappointed. It's terrible. He never shouts, he just glares at you with this look like: you should have done better and I'm ashamed to call you my son so get out before I actually lose my temper. And basically at that point you better take the hint and run because no one wants to know what he looks like if that's not actually losing his temper. I swear, there was smoke coming from his ears."

"As well as expected then," Ignis said.

"Yeah, I guess so." Noctis dropped onto the couch next to him. "I really messed up. Should have told him first thing instead of sending Cor out."

"Hindsight is, as they say, twenty-twenty." Ignis adjusted his glasses. "Has he given you some task as recompense?"

"No. That's what makes it so shitty. He didn't tell me to do _anything_. Like he thinks I'll just mess that up too. Or else it's so far messed that nothing's going to fix it."

The sinking sensation that had been dragging at Ignis' stomach settled in. They were not going after her. At least not by the king's orders.

"What are we to do, then?" He asked.

"Dunno. Stay here, I guess. He said Cor is with Rei and that's that, I guess."

They were not going after her on Noctis' orders either. Ignis struggled to wrap his mind around it. When word had come through that Reina had left the Crown City, he had rather taken it for granted that they would be going after her—or with her—wherever that was.

It had never occurred to him before today what it might feel like to be pulled in two.

Officially, he was Noctis' retainer and Noctis' Royal Adviser. But seventeen years ago, no such lines had been drawn. He had been introduced to both twins at the same time and, while Reina had been rather more reticent than her brother, it had been understood: he was meant to take care of both of them.

No one had ever bothered to outline exactly what that meant. He had taken a myriad specialized classes beyond the usual child's curriculum in the hopes that somehow the steps to a waltz would help when he became the Royal Adviser. So he had carved for himself a niche. The twins had no mother? He would fill that role—among others—for the next seventeen years at least. For both of them. They were both his charges. His children, as it were.

All differences in growth aside, it had remained that way. Though he had always suspected that Reina regarded him less fondly than Noctis, for whatever reason, he still considered her his responsibility all the same.

Not once in those years had it crossed his mind that, at some point, the twins might go in opposite directions and force him to choose which one to follow.

"Hey." Noctis nudged him. "Sorry, Specs. I know you wanted to go after her, but Dad didn't send us and I don't want to cross him again. One catastrophic screw-up is enough for this week."

"I understand," Ignis said.

It was a lie. His heart was screaming to follow after her and would accept no excuses. Disobey the king's orders. Go against Reina's apparent wishes. Charge into the unknown when he had no notion where to even begin searching for her. Cor had done so. Why was Ignis still lingering behind?

"Right." Noct stood up. "Guess that's that. Better get some sleep."

They did, as that was the sensible thing to do. Ignis struggled against his two halves all night; he dreamed he was being pulled apart with ropes tied to his ankles and wrists.

"You look like shit," Noct told him first thing in the morning.

"I fear I slept rather poorly," Ignis said. And evidently it showed.

The day was little better. Few minutes passed where he did not think on where Reina might be, what she might be doing. Around mid morning word came through that Iris Amicitia had gone after Reina the previous day as well, and had been missing all night. Gladio was furious. Along with Noctis and Prompto, Ignis overhead half of a shouted argument between Gladio and his father. The result was much the same as the encounter between Noctis and the king: they were not going after Iris.

For all that Gladio fumed, Ignis could only think one thing: Iris, a fifteen-year-old and not yet a full member of the Crownsguard, had gone after Reina while Ignis remained behind.

By nightfall he had succeeded in doing little more than running his nerves ragged.

Noctis gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder when they parted that evening. He felt much the same, doubtless: inclined to follow after his twin as he had done for his whole life, but bound by his father's wishes. And indeed, it was a poor time to cross the king. Each time they had seen him that day he had looked drawn.

Her absence weighed on them all.

The night passed with little improvement, save that sheer exhaustion dragged him under the restless blanket of sleep more rapidly than it had done before. Still he was tied and pulled in two directions. Tonight he could see the other ends of the ropes. One was tied to Noctis, the other to Reina. They did not pull. Not actively. But they did walk apart from each other, leaving him in the middle.

He woke with a start when he was physically torn in two. He ran his hands subconsciously over his middle, half expecting to find his legs not attached at all. He found no tear. But he did find himself covered in cold sweat.

He swiped his arm across his forehead. It was the small hours of morning, not yet dawn. Early enough that he might have gone back to sleep and scrounged another hour or two before his alarm woke him. If he had had any inclination to try sleeping again.

He did not.

This indecision was killing him. Even no choice was a choice; if he did nothing he would have already chosen to stay. Noctis was tied to Insomnia. He had taken on roles and responsibilities he hadn't thought to hold for years yet—things he had been actively avoiding throughout his whole life. He needed Ignis' guidance and expertise. Gladio and Prompto may have been company, but they did not have Ignis' education or understanding of the inner-workings of Lucis' government. If he left, he would be leaving Noctis to fend for himself in this new political climate.

If he didn't, he was leaving Reina to fend for herself against Gods knew what. Or the Gods did know. If King Regis' words were correct, she had gone to face the Draconian himself. She meant to fight a god to the death. Not even she was so powerful. She would need allies. She would need reliable companions at her sides and back, people she could trust. Perhaps she did have two of those already. But was that truly sufficient? Against a god?

He sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. It was not a choice he should ever have needed to make. Noctis was his prince. Ignis was sworn to him. But by the same token, Reina was his princess. No one had ever expected them to turn and run in opposite directions, both dragging him after.

Reina's situation was life-threatening. And temporary. He could join her, see this task through to the end, and then return to Insomnia where both she and Noctis would—hopefully—remain thereafter.

And perhaps what Noctis really needed right now was to stand on his own.

Ignis rose and dressed rapidly. Someone would look for him eventually—they would start here in his room, so this was where he left the note.

"Forgive me, Noctis."

He glanced around his room once more before switching off the lights and shutting the door. He had sufficient provisions to last for a reasonable excursion beyond the Wall: a few changes of clothes and so on, along with the most portable set of cookware he owned. He doubted his ability to fit the entire camp kitchen in a bag he could still carry over one shoulder. But the cookware was necessary. Just in case.

As for transportation: his car was in good working condition and it would carry him as far as he needed to go. Hopefully. Gate security was substantially more lax, these days, and he would no longer require royal permission to pass through. It would do.

This was the correct choice. The best path he could take in the circumstances. So why did he feel like he was betraying Noctis by sneaking out of the Citadel before the sun had even risen? Why had he left a note instead of simply admitting what he meant to do? Would Noct really have tried to stop him? Not a question he intended to learn the answer to.

He stopped at the Citadel gates and looked back. Half of him was still left behind in the Citadel, sleeping in. He would probably sleep late without Ignis present to wake him on time. And when he discovered Ignis was not going to wake him in time for his morning meetings in the foreseeable future?

Ignis sighed, straightened his glasses, and hit the gas. This was the right choice. But it was never going to feel better than this. If he had thought going after Reina would make him feel more whole, he had been sorely mistaken. Still, he had no intention of turning back.

He assured himself of that multiple times on the drive out of the city. He told himself when he paused just inside the city gates before being waved on. He told himself when he took to the road, driving on his own what he had last driven with four others in the Regalia.

He wasn't abandoning them. He was going to stand at Reina's side and the two were not synonymous.


	41. Ignis, Driving Across Lucis

_Day 43:_

It was too quiet in his car. Too empty. The whole way to Hammerhead he expected Noctis and Gladio to start arguing or Prompto to roll down the window and hang out with his camera.

But he had left them behind in Insomnia.

He should have told them. He should have stayed. He should have made some offer—

Ignis turned the radio up, hoping to drown out the sound of his critical subconscious. It was too late to think of what he should have done; right or wrong, he had made his decision. But nothing was so black and white as that.

It took less time to reach Hammerhead when he didn't break down halfway there and push the car the remainder of the way. Less than an hour, overall. By the time he had parked, the sun was just coming up.

The garage was closed. He didn't much care for interrupting anyone's morning rest—whatever Noctis may have believed—but he would wake them if necessary.

He rounded to the back and knocked on the door that connected to the small dwelling behind the garage. And he waited. He counted a minute on his wrist watch before knocking again, more insistently. Cid might not even know anything. He could be doing this for nothing. He could be setting himself up for an earful from a man who already held low opinions of anyone in Prince Noctis' company—or, indeed, anyone at all save his granddaughter. But thus far it was the best lead he had. He might have tried to contact the marshal, but he couldn't risk the information of his whereabouts getting back to King Regis so quickly and he had no guarantee that Cor would not tell him.

Another minute passed before someone came to the door. It was not Cid.

"What's all this racket about?" Cindy, hair in disarray, stood in the doorway rubbing her eyes.

"Apologies for waking you so early. I had hoped to speak with Cid."

"Paw Paw ain't here." She dropped her hand and looked up at him curiously. "Gone to fix the king's boat."

"The king's boat?" If King Regis had made such a request, Ignis expected to have heard of it, at least in passing. There had been talk of a vessel to take Lord Ravus to Niflheim some time ago, but that was all dealt with and did not include the king's personal yacht.

"That's right. The princess came asking if he could do it yesterday and he packed up to take a look. Left the garage with me."

Ignis' heart skipped. Reina had made the request.

"Can you tell me where he has gone?"

"Cape Caem. Guess the king's boat's been in the harbor under the lighthouse all these years."

Ignis' mind raced ahead. What could Reina want a boat for? If he drove to Caem, could he catch her before she left?

"Thank you for the information." Ignis was already backing away. "And, once again, I am truly sorry for disturbing your morning."

"That's alright," she said, nonplussed. "Tell Paw Paw I said hi if you're goin' that way."

"I will."

He made it around the corner of the garage before breaking into a jog. As if that would really take him to Caem any faster. He climbed into his car and took to the road, perhaps a little less carefully than he should have done. For once he wished he had the power of the Regalia at his fingertips. Though he had never put it to use, the top speed on the king's car was near twice what Ignis' was. That would, of course, mean driving over the speed limit. This situation might be the one that called for it, by his calculation.

If Reina had been in Hammerhead yesterday to speak with Cid, could they be ready to leave by this morning? It was certainly possible to reach Cape Caem in that time and still have a significant piece of the day remaining to work repairs. But he couldn't begin to guess what sort of repairs a boat that had been sitting idle for thirty years might need—or how long those would take. All he could do was press the pedal to the floor and hope for the best.

He had never driven so fast in his life. Not only was there nowhere in the Crown City to drive above 65—and that only on the freeways—but even in those situations when most drivers did set a speed ten or fifteen miles per hour above the legal limit, Ignis pointedly refused to do so. Until now. He wasn't even certain what the speed limit out here was. But if there was one at all he was breaking it.

It took roughly four hours to reach Caem from Hammerhead at that speed. By then it was solidly mid-morning, the sun was well in the sky, and Ignis' stomach was reminding him in no uncertain terms that he had skipped breakfast.

Also, his phone had been chiming with text messages for the last hour.

He glanced them over as he climbed out of the car. Nine new messages from Noctis, along with a few from Gladio and Prompto. All said more or less the same thing: Where are you? Please text me back. I am not joking, Specs, this is serious.

It was. And he had given it sufficiently serious thought for a day and a half before this decision. Half of him still wasn't certain it was the correct decision.

But what could he tell Noct that he hadn't already written? He put his phone back in his pocket.

Reina's car was not in the parking lot below the lighthouse. Of course, they might have been driving something else, but he knew for a fact that Cor had left Insomnia in Reina's convertible. Unless they had, for unknown reasons, switched to an Outland-made car, they were not in Caem. So either he had arrived first or… Well, there was no point speculating.

He climbed the hill toward the lighthouse. A few people lingered roadside and offered up cheerful greetings when he passed by. In other circumstances, it might have been refreshing. One would never have such polite and uninitiated words with a stranger inside the Crown City. They lived in too close proximity to other people to pay them any attention when they met on the street.

At the top of the hill was the lighthouse—as expected—and a run down shack that may once have been a residence. The peeling paint suggested it had, at some point, been painted blue. The wood porch looked decidedly unsafe. He gave the whole thing a wide berth. If the boat was in the harbor beneath the lighthouse then that was where he would find Cid. If Cid was still here to be found.

He let himself into the lighthouse—there were no locks—and glanced up along the center of the tower. They had buildings that tall within the Crown City, of course, but none that he could stand on the ground and look up through the middle to see the top. No one would waste so much space when it was at a premium.

A series of clangs followed by a chain of muffled swears echoed up the stairs. That was Cid, surely. Or else it was merely wishful thinking on Ignis' part. He descended all the same.

The Hidden Harbor was not so much of an exaggeration as he had expected. Indeed, it was large enough to park several cars in. Or to moor a seaworthy boat with the royal insignia painted on the side.

The boat was here. Reina hadn't left without him. He could still catch her—and he would catch her, if she had any intention of coming for the boat she had requested be repaired.

Cid was on the boat with a hatch in the deck open. A streak of oil was splashed across his face.

He looked up when Ignis descended the last of the steps, eyes narrowing in his craggy face. "Got some business here, boy?"

"I was hoping to catch Her Highness."

Cid gave a noncommittal grunt. He pulled a filthy rag from his trouser pocket and wiped down his blackened hands. They came out only marginally cleaner for the treatment.

"She's gone to find me some Mythril. Can't finish the repairs without it."

"I see… do you have any idea when she might be back?"

"Nope. No idea where she'd find the stuff anymore."

It seemed he had little choice but to wait for her, in the absence of any other leads. If he took to the road to search for her, he might miss her coming or going. On the other hand, she was all but certain to show up here again. Eventually.

"You sticking around?" Cid asked.

"I suppose I must. It seems the most assured choice."

"Good. Could use another pair of hands, since Cindy stayed behind. Climb on up here, boy. Hope you're not too attached to yer nice clothes."

He was, but if it was important to have this boat repaired then it was more important than the state of his clothes. He pulled his coat off and hung it over the railing to the stairs. Then he rolled his sleeves up and climbed aboard. No time like the present to get his hands dirty.


	42. Ignis, Joining the Retinue

Day 43

Voices preceded footsteps on the stairs. Reina's voice, one that presumably belonged to Cor, and one to Iris.

Given the choice of how Reina would first see him, he would not have chosen laying on his stomach on the ground beside the boat, covering in grease up to his elbows, with a great black smear across his forehead from attempting to wipe away the sweat. He might have changed one of those things before she made it to the bottom of the stairs, but certainly not all of them. And certainly not well.

"I said monkey wrench, boy, that's a crescent wrench!"

"Apologies." Ignis took back the offending tool and passed the correct one across to Cid.

"What do they teach you kids in the Crown City, these days? Can't even tell a crescent from a monkey…" Cid grumbled under his breath as he worked.

The footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs. Ignis pushed himself up on his elbows to turn and look. Reina stood at the bottom of the steps, eyes fixed on him as surprise worked across her features.

"Ignis?"

"Beneath the grease and grime, I suspect that is whom you would find," Ignis said.

"_Torque wrench!_"

Ignis grimaced, grabbed what he hoped was a torque wrench from the line of tools beside him, and passed it to Cid in exchange for the monkey wrench.

"Well, well, well. You are attracting quite the company, aren't you little Dreamer?" The man who waltzed down the steps after Reina was the last he had expected to see. But of course he was here. She had been close to him, hadn't she? And against all logic she still was.

Cor came after. He glanced Ignis over.

"Are you keeping him, too?" He asked.

"She kept you." Iris filed in last, nudging Cor as she passed him by.

"You're one to talk," Cor said.

"Shall we once again discuss how I am the only one attending this party by invitation?" Ardyn asked.

Reina was still staring at Ignis as if she had never properly seen him before. "You came after me…?"

"Of course, Your Highness." He could think of few other people he would subject himself to Cid's tutelage for.

"But Noctis…"

"Is a grown man, full capable of handling himself for some time." Or he would have to be, given that Ignis had just walked out on him.

"But you're the Royal Adviser!" She said.

"Not quite yet, I am pleased to say. That honor is still held by Master Amicitia. And, strictly speaking, my instructions from the king were to take care of his children. In the plural form, you will note."

"That was _years _ago. I'm sure Father doesn't expect you to mother me when I'm thirty years old. Twenty years old," she amended.

"Whichever it is, I am certain you will find King Regis did not include a statute of limitations."

Any further objects she had were lost in the noise from below the dock: a metallic clang, a muffled swear, and a splash.

Cid's head appeared at dock level, right beside Ignis'. "You a good swimmer, boy?"

Something told him he was about to become one.

"Here, haul me on up." He tugged on the rope that held him hanging in the air, harnessed over the edge of the boat. "You get that Mythril, Yer Highness?"

Ignis climbed to his feet. His muscles were stiff from a few hours of unusual treatment and strange positions. He climbed aboard the boat and began hauling Cid up.

"I did," Reina said. "How long will it take to finish?"

Cid gave another of his noncommittal grunts as he put his feet back on solid ground. "A day. Two days."

"It would seem we have a few days of rest," Reina said.

That was not, so far as Ignis recalled, something Reina had ever been especially good at. Not even before this. Ten years in darkness and war was unlikely to have improved her ability to sit back and relax.

In light of new developments—namely the arrival of Cid's required Mythril piece—Ignis was graciously allowed time off for good behavior. And also for lunch, though his watch said that should have been a few hours ago and his stomach said 'by the Gods, why have you not fed me yet?'

Ignis was understandably reluctant to pick up a sandwich when he had only managed to wipe perhaps thirty percent of the grease off his hands. The rest was permanent. Or at least required more serious treatment than a dirty rag he had found underneath Cid's tool chest, but it had been that or his trousers. Then again, the trousers were likely just as dirty by now.

Following lunch, Reina volunteered Iris to help Cid in Ignis' place. Iris submitted herself to this without objection. Whether this was because she had no objection or because she would not pose it to Reina, Ignis couldn't decide.

"Just for this afternoon," Reina told Iris. "But Cor could use some rest and I'm afraid Cid and Ardyn would kill each other."

"So kind of you to worry about me, little Dreamer."

She cast him a long-suffering look, then turned back to Cor. "The house down the hill is furnished. The beds are functional, if not comfortable."

Cor shook his head.

"You need to sleep, Cor. I know you don't trust Ardyn, but I would think Ignis would count as sufficient supervision."

Cor looked at Ignis. Muscle memory took over; Ignis sat up a little straighter, as he might have stood at attention for when the marshal came for inspection.

"He'll follow your orders," Cor said, "Not mine."

Ignis cleared his throat. "With all due respect, Marshal, I will follow Her Highness' orders insofar as they are reasonable orders."

He had just walked out on his prince and king, disobeying instructions to remain in Insomnia while others—namely, a fifteen-year-old girl—went after Reina. If that wasn't evidence enough that he would exercise due judgement, he didn't know what was.

"If she tries to walk off on her own, are you going to let her?" Cor asked.

"If I had intended to do that, I would not be here."

"Are you going to follow her without telling anyone else?" Cor pressed.

"If I were given the choice between following her or letting others know, I would choose the former. If I chose the latter, none of us would know where she had gone."

Cor scrutinized him for another moment. Finally he pushed his chair back and stood up. "Keep your phone on you. Charged."

"Of course, Marshal."

He left them alone at the table, Cid having already taken Iris back to the harbor and Ardyn having disappeared to gods knew where. Much as Ignis hated having Iris sent on an assignment that should have been his, he was grateful for the reprieve.

"Did Noct put you up to this?" Reina asked.

Ah. Here was the start of an uncomfortable conversation. She was not going to like the answer by an ounce.

"No," Ignis said.

"My father?"

"No, Your Highness. I fear I have come very much of my own accord." And very much against direction. His phone had yet to stop ringing. He had turned it on silent a few hours ago. Now that he was with Reina he likely should have answered, or at least sent Noctis a text telling him as much, but he wasn't ready to face Noct with the knowledge of what he had done yet.

"Does no one know where you are?" She asked.

Ignis shifted in his chair. "I did leave a note, which I am certain Noctis has found by now."

"A _note_?"

"Yes, Your Highness." He dropped his gaze. Whatever she thought of what he had done—whatever _he _thought of it—he wasn't going back. This was where he needed to be. He understood that now.

She was silent for long enough that he braced himself for an explosion. What he had not been prepared for was laughter.

"You're as bad as I am," she said. "I left a note for father. He was livid. Not that he shows that like any other person would."

"He summoned Noctis not long after he discovered it," Ignis said. "I was, thankfully, not present for that conversation."

"I wonder if it's because of what I did with the crystal. Healing him."

"In what way?"

"He used to shout. But that was when he was angry with himself or frustrated that he couldn't do what he thought he should have been able to do. And it was more recent—or else he hid it from me better when I was younger. I think I remember him being more like this when we were kids, but it was a long time ago."

"Longer, still, for you."

"Yes…"

"You have turned back time for him. He is grateful for it."

"I know." She smiled faintly. "Anyway, you should really call Noct back. He'll only be more angry the longer you make him wait."

"How did you know—?"

"You keep looking at your phone, swiping notifications and putting it back away. Who else would you be avoiding?"

"Then… you are not cross with me for coming after you and leaving Noctis behind?"

She sighed. "I don't know. You should be with him, not with me. You're his Adviser. He needs you."

"And you?"

"I'd prefer to know you were safe in Insomnia."

"I have made a choice, Your Highness. Time may tell whether it was a good one or a poor one. Noctis is inside the Citadel—as you said—safe. While he may well benefit from my guidance in political areas, I suspect he will also benefit from standing on his own. But my responsibility is to both of you no less than Noctis. And you are preparing to throw yourself into danger for reasons I ill understand. I cannot well allow you to do that on your own."

"But you are _Noctis' _Adviser."

Pieces fit together slowly in his mind; some that she said and some that she did not say.

"You spent all those years with me in your Dream, yet still you believe I make that distinction?" He asked levelly.

"Don't you? You stood with him in the end, like you were meant to."

He had gone with Noctis? What did that mean? She had admitted that she had taken Noctis' place and died for Lucis, but what did that have to do with Ignis?

He tucked the questions away. He could hardly ask what she meant. Instead he responded to the comment on hand.

"I do not, Your Highness. Nor have I ever. I consider both of you to be my charges, regardless of which has been slated for the throne and which has not. Though the case may be that Noctis required more of me, do not think for a moment that I would not have given the same to you if I had even the slightest indication that you might need or want it."

She stared at him, eyes too-wide in her face, before dropping her chin to her chest. With a start he realized she was crying.

"Reina—" He pushed his chair back and dropped to his knees beside hers so he could see her face. "I apologize. I did not mean to upset you. If I have said something…"

"No." She swiped at her eyes, sniffling. "It isn't that."

Ignis dug in his pockets for a handkerchief, which came out more than a little grease stained. She took it anyway. When her eyes were more dry, she continued.

"I always believed I was secondary to Noctis for reasons no one else seemed to understand. You were puzzled by it—are still puzzled by it. So was Father. I daresay even Noct is. But you have to understand that's what I saw. Everyone gave Noctis more. More attention, more time, more purpose.

"In my Dream I was just beginning to understand that half the reason Father did it was because he didn't think I needed it. It never really occurred to me that you had done the same."

"Reina…" Ignis took her hands in his. They were going to get covered in grease and grime, but that would wash off. "I have never considered you less than Noctis. For any part I played in perpetuating this belief of yours I am truly sorry. Perhaps my presence here will help dispel it."

"You're not going back either, are you?"

"Of course not." Ignis sat back on his heels. "I intend to see this through to the very end, whether you profess to want me here or not. Now that I know what you claim to need and what you truly need are two very different things, I shall be rather more critical of your words and actions."

She smiled—shakily, but a smile nonetheless.

"Now, if it is all the same to you, I should like to make use of any sink and soap facilities to be had in this place." He released her hands, which were now marked with black imprints of his fingers. "Ah. It seems you may need the same now."

Reina glanced at her hands.

"Apologies," Ignis said.


	43. Noctis, Left Alone

_Day 43:_

Someone pounded on his door.

"Five more minutes." Noctis rolled over and dragged his pillow over his head.

"Noct! Get up."

Weird. Ignis didn't usually sound so much like Gladio. Sure, there was the closed door to consider, but muffle didn't usually affect accents.

The pounding resumed. "Ignis is gone."

"He's _what_?" Noctis made the mistake of trying to sit up and get out of bed at the same time. His face hit the ground.

"Gone," Gladio repeated. "Left a note in his room."

After some ingenious thinking and a lot of wiggling, Noctis managed to pull his legs free of the blankets and get to the door. He yanked it open.

"A note?"

Gladio thrust it under his nose.

_Noctis,_

_I am sorry to leave in this fashion. But I have chosen to do so for—I suspect—much the same reason Reina did: because I fear I will either be stopped or accompanied if I inform you of my plans before they are in motion. _

_I am going to find Reina. I daresay she will not be convinced to return; His Majesty knew as much when he failed to send you after her. But she will need allies on whom she can count. I hope to be one._

_I realize I have duties to you, which I will neglect in pursuit of Reina. But I also have responsibilities to Reina, which I would neglect by remaining in Insomnia. Though, in all these years, I have primarily served as your retainer, caretaker, adviser, and any other role you required of me, His Majesty's orders to me made no distinction between the two of you. He asked me to take care of his children; to be a friend and a brother to both of you. To date, I have judged that your need was greater than Reina's, which is why I have been primarily at your side alone. Things have since changed._

_That you have need of me now, I have no doubt. But Reina's need is greater. You will do admirably with or without my help. _

_I must go with Reina. I hope you will understand this._

_Ever yours,_

_Ignis_

Noctis had to read it through twice before the reality of the situation registered in his brain. By then he was staring open-mouthed at Ignis' handwriting.

He was gone. Ignis was gone.

He was _never _gone. Not even when Noctis wished he would go away, he was still there, just in case Noct needed anything. It had always been like that. As far back as Noctis could remember. How could he just… not be there anymore?

Noctis went back inside his room and fumbled for his phone. Specs was probably still pretty close by. Noct would just call him and…

Well, he'd figure the rest out later.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And went to Ignis' voicemail.

Right. So. He wasn't just going to call Ignis. Maybe he was just somewhere he couldn't talk on the phone. That was probably it. Noctis sent him a text instead. He would read it and respond as soon as he could. Really soon. Like in a minute tops, because that was how Ignis always responded to text messages.

"So… what're we gonna do?" Gladio asked.

"Do?" Noctis tapped his phone against his chin, waiting.

"Y'know. About the kingdom? We've got stuff to take care of, right?"

Right. The kingdom. Various princely duties. Except Noctis had no idea what those were without Ignis following him around steering him in the right direction and making list after list of stuff he needed to do. Never thought he'd miss those lists.

Well, Ignis would probably just tell him what he needed to deal with when he texted back. He'd probably written it all out before he left or something. He always thought like that.

Around five minutes in, Noctis sent another text. Maybe he just hadn't gotten it. Maybe it had gotten lost or he hadn't heard the notification. That was probably it.

After the fifth message, the denial was wearing off. And the panic was setting in.

Noct didn't know how to run a kingdom. He didn't know how to do any of this stuff without Ignis to fill in the blanks. He didn't even know where to start. He couldn't do this without Ignis. But Ignis was gone and he wasn't answering his phone. He wasn't going to. He wasn't going to text back detailed instructions or hang on the phone so Noct could ask questions whenever he needed to.

Prompto and Gladio had both tried Ignis' phone too. Just in case. They didn't get any further than Noct.

Eventually someone started wondering where Noct was and sent a servant to check on him. A servant who was noticeably relieved to find Noct alive and in his rooms. Guess no one wanted to tell Dad that Noct had gone missing too, after this whole thing with Reina.

At that point he couldn't see any other choice but to go down and try to figure out what he was supposed to be doing and how. He kept his phone on him, just in case, but as hours passed, his hope of Ignis calling him back diminished.

People in the Citadel were eager to tell Noct what he was supposed to be doing—including a couple things he should have done already but had forgotten about because Ignis was supposed to remember that and remind him. Also, it was a lot more clear that Noct didn't know the names of any of these probably-important government officials whom he had been working with for a few weeks now. Ignis always muttered names in his ear when he walked into a meeting. Told him what everyone's job was. That had been… helpful.

He dragged through the day like that. Gladio and Prompto weren't nearly as good at Ignis' job as Ignis was. Anyone in the Citadel who had thought Noct was doing a halfway decent job of anything was now rethinking. Back to the screw-up prince who doesn't do much and never does it right.

"Noctis." His dad caught him in the hallway, somewhere between meetings he had forgotten to go to.

It was still weird to see Dad like that. All young again like they'd gone back fifteen or twenty years. Nice. But weird. If Noct had grown a beard, it might almost have looked like they were related for once. Dad had his retinue and Noct had… well, just Gladio and Prompto but that was all of them right now. That was about where the similarities between them ended. Dad probably did not need Clarus to tell him where he was supposed to go next.

"Hey, Dad."

"Is everything alright? I have had more than one person ask after your health, citing that you seemed off-balance today."

"Uh. Yeah. I'm fine." Noctis ran his fingers through his hair. How was he supposed to tell his dad that he was only a halfway decent heir when Ignis was around? He sure wasn't going to lie after that whole thing with Rei. "Just… uh… Ignis is gone."

"Gone?" His eyebrows came together in the middle.

"Yeah. He went after Rei. Early this morning, I guess."

His dad looked momentarily surprised. Like for some reason it hadn't occurred to him Ignis would want to do that. Hadn't really occurred to Noctis, either. It should have, but it hadn't. Ignis was always there. Why would he ever not be?

"I see… It seems I have misjudged young Ignis."

Noct wasn't really sure what that meant, but alright.

"Very well," his dad said. "I can see why that might have you out of your element. In any case, what's done is done; we must all learn to adapt in his absence. We will see to it that you have an attendant—not as a replacement for Ignis, but simply because it is quite impossible to fit everything in your mind at once. Your attendant will not know what is important and what must be written down, but they will record as instructed and organize a schedule for you. Not even I know where I am meant to be before Avun tells me."

Behind him, Mr Scientia bowed. "I'm honored, Your Majesty."

Right. So. He didn't need to remember all that stuff at once. That was one hell of a relief. But he still needed to know who people were and what they did and how they could help. Somehow, Noct didn't think Mr Scientia reminded Dad who his councilors were before every meeting.

"Right. Thanks. That's… good to know," Noctis said.

"Have you spoken with Ignis since his departure?"

Noct glanced automatically at his phone. No texts, no calls. "No. He's not calling me back… hope he's okay."

"I have no doubt he will be quite alright, most especially if he has found Reina. He is a capable young man." His dad squeezed Noctis' shoulder. "You will be fine, my son."


	44. Regis, Talking to Ignis

_Day 43:_

That Ignis might leave Noctis' side in order to accompany Reina—of his own accord, no less—was not a possibility that had occurred to Regis. While Ignis was, and always had been, a dutiful young man, Regis had no reason to believe that he might set aside his duty to Noctis for anything at all. Not even for Reina.

Never before had Ignis chosen Reina over Noctis in any significant way. Never had he given more to her. And yet, Regis himself was guilty of much the same thing, was he not? Any excuses he had were irrelevant. Any excuses Ignis had were irrelevant. Perhaps they were both learning how wrong they had been.

It took some diplomatic acrobatics to carve out even a minute of time to himself. But with Clarus' help, Regis found himself back in his office alone—at least for the moment. He stood before the southern window and dialed Ignis' number. It was one thing to ignore phone calls from your brother and quite another to ignore them from your king. He would answer. If he was at all able, he would answer.

He did.

"_Your Majesty."_ Surprised tinged Ignis' usually level voice.

"Are you with my daughter?"

"_Yes, Your Majesty."_

"And Iris?"

"_She is with us as well. As are Cor and Ardyn."_

As expected. So everything was proceeding rather better than Regis had expected—or even hoped. She now had three companions, at least, who would stand by her through the light and the dark.

"_May I ask a question, Your Majesty?"_

"You may, though I promise no answer."

"_Why did you not send anyone after her? Surely I would have been well placed for the task."_

"I had rather assumed that you would put your duty to Noctis above all else. It seems I was wrong."

Regis was reminded why he hated telephone conversations. Not as much as text conversations, but bordering. He had no input save the tone of Ignis' voice and when Ignis stopped speaking he had no way of guessing what was on his mind. No expressions. No body language. Reading people was second nature for a king by necessity. Being deprived of that felt rather like running into a brick wall quite unexpectedly.

"_Sire, do you recall the day you first introduced me to Noctis and Reina?"_

"Quite sharply."

"_As do I. Though I may have been quite young, it was the sort of experience one does not easily forget. And I recall your words to me that day. You asked me to stand beside both Reina and Noctis, not to guide but to support. To be a friend, to be a brother, to both of them. I have always kept those words in my heart, Sire."_

Regis leaned back against the edge of his desk. "Good. I admit to having reservations, but I have never been more pleased to learn I was wrong. If you will stand by Reina with the same loyalty you have dedicated to Noctis all these years, then I am relieved to know you are at her side."

"_I will, Your Majesty."_

"Take care of her, Ignis. This is a plea from a father as much as it is an order from your king."

"_Of course, Sire."_

"She is not the same person as her twin. She has never had need of a mother. But I suspect she is desperately in need of a friend."

"_I am aware, Your Majesty. Though I cannot aid her in the same ways I have done for Noctis, I will find my place and fill it. And I fully intend to be a friend to her."_

He intended, perhaps, to be more than a friend to her, if some of those puppy dog gazes he had cast in her direction were any indication.

"I am pleased to hear it," Regis said. "And one more thing, Ignis."

"_Sire?"_

"Call Noctis back. He is quite worried about you."

"_Ah. Yes. I will, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty."_

With that farewell, Regis could almost see Ignis bowing.


	45. Ignis, Doing His Best

_Day 43:_

"Do you always bow when you talk to my father on the phone?"

Ignis' face was suddenly a few degrees hotter. "Ah. I… may… Your Highness. Admittedly, I do not speak to His Majesty over the phone regularly."

In truth, he had not noticed bowing at all until Reina had called his attention to it.

"What did he say?" She asked.

"That I should take care of you, Your Highness."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh he did, did he?"

"I rather suspect His Majesty is concerned not for your safety so much as your mental health."

"I see. Anything else?"

"That I should call Noctis back."

"You should."

"Yes, I rather suspect I should have some time ago." Ignis glanced at his phone, still in hand. "Nevertheless, he shall have to make do with a text message."

He had yet to read all of the messages he had received thus far today, but they looked to be more or less the same thing: some variation on asking where he was or to please respond. Ignis did so, sending a brief confirmation that he was with Reina and would call later in the evening.

"And why is that?" Reina asked.

"I have a very important task which takes precedence," Ignis said.

"And what might that be?" Her face remained neutral, as it often did these days unless she was taken off-guard. He was beginning to suspect it was—as so many other behaviors she had adopted—some vestige of her Dream. Either that or it was a lingering defense mechanism. Only a month and a half had passed since her living nightmare. She still would not speak of it.

"Taking care of the king's daughter."

"As you can see, I am well taken care of."

"Quite the contrary, Your Highness. What I see is that you are, sparing my company, left alone with nothing to distract you from growing restlessness."

"Am I restless?"

Admittedly, she did not look it. This was something of a shot in the dark and yet he was beginning to get a handle on this new Reina.

"I suspect so, Your Highness. Impatient to be under way so your mission can be completed."

"Perhaps I am," she admitted, though without any outward shift in her demeanor. "Are you intending to change that?"

"In a manner of speaking." Ignis offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

The neutrality cracked and puzzlement showed through. Nevertheless, she took his arm and allowed him to lead her down the slope away from the lighthouse. The dwelling below—if it could be called that—still looked structurally unsound to Ignis, but if they were to spend the night inside he would have to come to terms with that.

The steps held out when they climbed up. The door opened and did not come off the hinges, and—in spite of an ominous creaking—the second floor seemed to still be holding up by the time they were inside.

Ignis took a quick stock of the kitchen. It had some staples—mostly dry and canned goods that could be stored with little worry of spoiling. No matter. He had passed some farmers selling fresh produce down by the street on his way up.

"What are we doing?" Reina asked.

Ignis held up a finger. "One moment. Please do not go anywhere—Cor will kill me."

One brief trip down to the parking lot and back up had the kitchen rather more well stocked than before. Enough to make suitable meal for four or five other people.

"We are cooking dinner," Ignis said.

"I might have guessed. Very well."

"Ah, but do not think you will get off easy, Your Highness. Crown City style dumplings require the utmost concentration." A taste of home, so to speak. Perhaps it would help.

She merely stood, quite still, and considered him. Her eyes were focused, at least; an improvement from many other times he had spoken with her these past weeks. And she seemed collected, if closed off. He wasn't certain if that was better or worse than the tears.

"Now then. We shall need a bowl. Two, in fact, if you would oblige. And I hope you are prepared to get your hands dirty."

She looked down at her hands, as if considering. "There has been worse on my hands before."

After some rummaging, she collected a pair of bowls and set them out on the counter where he had assembled the ingredients. She was a great help in the kitchen: much more adept than Noctis, and Ignis never needed to repeat instructions more than once, nor clarify or correct any techniques. Nevertheless, her motions were mechanical. If she derived any enjoyment from the process, it did not show. She did as he asked: nothing more or less.

"Your talents have been wasted, Your Highness," Ignis observed. "Had I known you were a natural cook, I would have enlisted your aid much earlier."

"I'm not," she said.

"I beg to differ."

"No, I mean…" She looked up at him. For one instant, something showed through the hollow mask. Then it was gone. Her eyes started through him. When she spoke again, her voice was distant and slow. "You taught me."

"We cooked together?" He shouldn't have asked the question. But it was the first glimpse into the mystery of those ten missing years of her life and it escaped before he could stop himself.

"Yes." Her voice was high and strangled. "After you lost your sight, we…"

She looked up and, for the first time in several minutes, he got the sense that she was looking at him. A tear streaked down her cheek.

"Reina—"

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. Not an apology for her tears or some perceived weakness. For something else altogether. For something she had done to him—or believed she had done to him—in a Dream, which had never come to pass.

She lowered her chin to her chest, rubbing her cheeks dry, though the tears only fell faster. Ignis took a tentative step forward, laying his hand on her shoulder. How could he be a comfort when he knew so little of what troubled her? He could present himself as a friend to her all he liked, but was that truly sufficient? She would let no one past the walls she had erected. In the past weeks there had been moments when he thought she might let him in, but each opening vanished as quickly as it came, without allowing him the opportunity to get one foot in the door.

"I'm fine," she said. She looked up, rubbing her eyes dry. "Fine," she repeated, as if this would make it true.

And the door had closed again.

Ignis let his hand fall from her shoulder. "Why don't you get some rest? I shall finish off dinner and call everyone when it is complete."

She nodded. Whether because she wanted away from him or the memories or something else entirely, he could only guess. She disappeared upstairs, where a few bedrooms lined the upper level.

The remainder of his evening cooking passed quietly and without company. When the pot was boiling and the first batch of dumplings was steaming within, filling the open kitchen with the mild aroma of meat and vegetables, Cor descended.

"Where's Reina?"

"Upstairs," Ignis said. "I endeavored to involve her in the cooking process."

"Worked out well, huh?"

"I fear it may have reminded her of something painful."

"Everything seems to," Cor said.

Ignis nodded mutely, lifted one steamer from the pot and replaced it with the second.

"I'll check in on her," Cor said.

"Thank you," Ignis said. Someone needed to. Perhaps it should not be him so soon after he had upset her.

Cor took only one step before turning back. He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not your fault."

"It may well be," Ignis said. "I have done untold things inside her Dream."

Cor grunted. "Not you. Just who you would have become if all that happened."

"Do you believe we left her?" Ignis asked. The question had been gnawing at him, growing each time she let slip another piece of the puzzle. "We know the three of us were once her retinue. Yet she expects everyone to dislike her—perhaps fear her. And each time she has one of those moments, she apologizes, yet she seems to fear being without us."

Cor shook his head. "No idea. Not really my forte."

"None of ours," Ignis said.

"More yours than mine," Cor said. "I'm going to check on her."

He went, leaving Ignis to his dumplings and his musings. Later, both of them emerged from the second floor balcony and descended for dinner. Cid was convinced to relinquish his hold on Iris, though she was required to scrub her arms from the elbow down before sitting at the table. Even Ardyn deigned to grace them with his presence. In spite of the varied company, dinner was a sedate affair. Reina's quiet, distant mood affected them all.


	46. Cor, Running Damage Control

_Day 43:_

He found her in one of the bedrooms upstairs, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. Her eyes weren't moving.

"Hey," he said.

It took her a second to look at him. When she did, she said, "Hey. Is Ignis upset with me?"

"No. Just worried." Cor stepped inside and took a seat on the bed next to her.

Everyone was worried, but knowing that didn't help her. She just needed to focus on… hell. He had no idea what she needed to focus on. He'd have said getting better, but this wasn't the sort of thing that just got better. A soldier could spend his whole life reliving the past.

They sat there for a long time. He didn't have any words that could help and she didn't have any she wanted to share. Maybe just being nearby would help her. Maybe not, but it was the best he had to give. Eventually Ignis called everyone for dinner. Nothing much changed, except that everyone was sitting quietly trying not to say anything that would set her off. Trouble was, everything seemed to set her off.

After dinner, she disappeared again. Cor kept one eye on her; if she thought she could pull a repeat of what had happened back in Meldacio, she was wrong as hell. She didn't walk out, though. She just sat in that room, alone, with the door open so anyone who walked by could see she was still there. Every time Cor did walk by, she was in the same spot. Mind miles away, probably.

There were enough rooms in the rickety old house that everyone got a bed. Not that it mattered if Cor had one or not. He knew he wasn't getting any sleep as soon as Reina started pacing the upstairs landing.

"You only sit on your bed when there's no danger of falling asleep?" Cor leaned against the doorframe of his own room.

She stopped and looked back at him. "I don't sleep well."

Sometimes talking to her was like running a broken record.

"No, you refuse to let yourself sleep because you're afraid of what will happen," Cor said. "Can you still Dream on accident?"

She considered. "I don't think so."

"Then just don't Dream." He took her shoulders and turned her toward her room. "Come on. Let's go."

"Cor—"

He pushed her gently across the landing to her room and steered her to the bed, ignoring her protests. She sat on the bed and stared up at him, the picture of a pouting princess.

"It isn't just those Dreams that I'm…" She stopped without ever finishing the sentence.

Was it so hard to admit she was afraid? Who the hell was he kidding, of course it was. Damn. She really was just like him.

"What then?" He asked.

She dropped her gaze. "Nothing. I'm just not tired."

"Bullshit. Lay down." Cor dragged a chair from the corner of the room to the bedside. She did what he asked, but lay on her side staring at him while he sat down. "Close your eyes. You're not going to fall asleep like that."

"I'm not going to sleep," she said.

And he couldn't make her, if she was set on being stubborn.

"Alright. Fine." Cor leaned back in his chair and met her gaze. She wasn't sleeping and he wasn't leaving. So it was a staring contest, then. That stretched on for a while before she spoke. Probably trying to give her brain something to focus on instead of dozing off.

"Cor… when I was unconscious after Daemonfire, did you sit at my bedside?"

Shit. That had been more than a month ago. He'd thought he wanted her to hear when it happened, but when she had never said anything about it after waking up, he'd been relieved.

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Some."

"I remember your voice, I think," she said.

He said nothing.

"What did you say to me?" She asked.

So she didn't remember. That was good, right?

Wrong.

"I don't know. Stupid things. Whatever crossed my mind." He stared straight at his clasped hands, not at her.

The bed shifted. She leaned out and laid one hand over his. "You say a lot of stupid things. But you never just talk for the sake of it."

Cor looked at her hand on his, then up at her.

Too bad she knew him so gods damned well. Maybe he knew her, too. She was more like him than he had guessed before all this had gone down. And if he knew anything about himself, he knew she wouldn't take the wrong answer and she wouldn't take a non-answer. She probably wouldn't try beating the truth out of him, though. Probably.

"I just said I need to protect you. Apologized for doing such a shitty job of it. Said I'd keep sticking around no matter what, if you let me."

She searched his face in a way that made him think she heard more than he had said.

"You said you _need _to protect me," she said. "What does that mean?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I just need to keep you safe, and not because it's my duty or because you're Regis' daughter. It's just something I need to do."

"Then you should understand why I left you behind last night," she said.

Because he would have done the same thing, if their places were reversed.

"I understand it," he said. "Doesn't mean I agree with it."

She squeezed his hand. He pressed her hand between his. Her fingers were cold. He tucked it in under the blanket and pulled them up to her shoulders.

"Go to sleep, Reina."

This time she didn't argue with him. She curled up and closed her eyes, only peeking a few times to check that he was still there before she was asleep.

And he was alone, wondering what the answer to her question really was.


	47. Reina, Atop the Lighthouse

_Day 44:_

Sometimes she caught a glimpse of the light, like a distant door down a dark hallway. They loved her. She could see that much on their faces, in their actions. Everything would have been much easier if they hadn't, but she couldn't do that again. She couldn't face another lifetime when she pushed them away and walked this path on her own, for the greater good.

But that didn't mean she deserved what they gave her.

From atop the lighthouse, all of Lucis and more was laid at her feet. A land full of people who had no notion of what was sacrificed for them every day. Not that they would care. It was in mankind's nature to take and take for granted.

"All alone up here, little Dreamer?" His voice came first. Then the cloud of black miasma, swirling and coalescing into a man with darkness clinging to him. "But you have so many _friends _now."

"Sometimes it's all too much and I have to step away."

He leaned against the rail beside her. "Introversion is all fine and well until Lion breaks down the door in his frantic search for you."

"Don't tell me you're here because of Cor."

"Perish the thought, little Dreamer! Do you truly believe he would trust me to keep an eye on you?"

"It seems unlikely." Nevertheless, there was less open hostility between them than Reina had expected.

Ardyn spread his hands as if to say _there's your answer_.

"It isn't introversion, though," she said. "Not as such. Sometimes they are so much light and I feel the dark inside me burning in their presence." Reina gripped the rail until her knuckles turned white. She shook her head. "I still can't face telling them. Everything I did. Everything I became. If they knew, they would do the same thing they did in my Dream."

"What you _did_? Little Dreamer, what you did was protect Lucis and everyone in it from the darkness, awaiting the Chosen King's return."

"They called me the Daemon Queen."

"You encouraged that."

"People used to flinch when I looked at them."

"Yes… you had the most striking stare I have ever seen in a mirror. But let's be reasonable, little Dreamer, these were the same people who would prostrate themselves before anyone who looked moderately important."

"Cor said himself he was glad Father was dead so he never saw what I became."

Ardyn sighed. He turned and leaned back against the rail.

"And here I had you categorized as an intelligent person, little Dreamer." He crossed his arms over his chest. "What they said—what they _believed_—was exactly what you wanted them to. When you record a man hunting innocent beasts and cut out the footage where he brings food home to his poor, starving horde of children, that does rather look like a monster, wouldn't you agree? They knew only what you wanted them to know. If you're wondering what they would do, had they seen the whole picture, you have no further to look than the present."

"They don't know. They didn't see the monster I became."

"Don't be a fool, little Dreamer." Ardyn sighed and shrugged dramatically. "I can see you are in no fit state to utilize that little brain of yours. I rather hope it switches back on soon. Until then…"

He pushed away from the rail and walked back toward the door.

"Ardyn, wait."

He stopped.

"Will you hold them back for me?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "One last ditch effort to shake your pursuers? It will never work."

"It will if you help me. I only need a few minutes. No one knows where we're going and you can follow after."

"And if I should refuse?"

That was not a possibility she had truly considered before. In hindsight, she should have. She knew him well enough to know he never did something for nothing.

"Then I suppose I'll have to make a scene. But you know if they catch up with us, you'll have to tolerate their company again."

"A travesty." Ardyn scrutinized her. With a start she realized she couldn't guess what he was thinking. They had strayed too far from a path she knew. She couldn't even begin to predict how he would behave here.

"Make a scene, little Dreamer." He turned back around. "It's what I do."


	48. Ignis, Inside the Lighthouse

_Day 44:_

No discussion passed about not leaving Reina alone with Ardyn. It was understood. And yet, somewhere between putting the boat back together and preparing for departure, that was precisely what happened.

For a brief, terrifying moment, Ignis thought Reina had vanished altogether. The marshal's instructions that someone keep an eye on her at all times had not been a suggestion—nor a baseless concern. If she had already slipped away on her own twice, she would likely try again. Indeed, she had little reason not to.

But Ignis caught sight of her atop the lighthouse before he chased Cor down in a panic. He stopped at the base staring up as he willed his heartbeat to slow down to a more reasonable pace once more. As he watched, another person appeared at the top.

Ardyn.

So much for catching his breath.

Ignis pushed the lighthouse doors open and sprinted up the curling spiral staircase inside. Three quarters of the way there his senses caught up with him. Neither of them were likely to look kindly on him if he barged into what was undoubtedly a private conversation. They were also unlikely to look kindly on him eavesdropping. For the latter consideration, it was too late.

Through the open door at the top he could hear their voices drifting down. The inside of the tower carried the sound well, if with something of an echo. He ought have turned around then. It was unseemly of him to listen in on the princess' conversations. Her words caught his ears, however, and his attention.

"If they knew, they would do the same thing they did in my Dream."

Ignis stopped sideways on the stairs, frozen. Of whom did she speak? Presumably of himself, Cor, and Iris. And what, precisely, had they done in her Dream? What had they known?

Whatever it was, she thought herself a monster. That much was made clear in those few moments. It was all he could do to stop himself walking the rest of the way up and stopping those thoughts in their tracks. Protecting the princess meant fighting away devils who whispered terrible ideas in her ear. Doubtless Ardyn had—

"What you _did_? Little Dreamer, what you did was protect Lucis and everyone in it from the darkness, awaiting the Chosen King's return."

—had told her she was wrong, that she had done nothing to think ill of.

Ignis looked up at the open door, nonplussed. That was Ardyn up there, surely. It was his voice, and yet he spoke words Ignis had never imagined from him. He was actually… encouraging her?

He told them day and night they couldn't trust him, implied the same with his crooked smiles and evil stares. Ignis had taken that to believe they could trust him to behave in a way contrary to their best interests. Perhaps they couldn't even trust that.

He had some ulterior motive. There was no other explanation.

Ignis waited, hardly breathing, and listened for it.

It never came.

But listening to Reina speak with one who evidently knew what had occurred in her Dream gave insights he never would have found anywhere else:

"They called me the Daemon Queen."

"People used to flinch when I looked at them."

"Cor said himself he was glad Father was dead so he never saw what I became."

It was difficult to imagine a world in which Cor would have uttered those words. What would he have said, if Ignis passed this information on to him?

That it hadn't been him. Only the person that he had never become.

Ignis stood, frozen, catching a glimpse into Reina's nightmare of an existence and a side of Ardyn he had never even begun to imagine existed. More understanding, more empathy—if that was the word—than a man branded Adagium had any right bearing.

He told her she was a fool for refusing to listen. It may have been what she needed to hear, but Ignis never could have said anything close. Whatever else she may have been, she was still his princess.

Footsteps sounded on the metal platform above. His time was up. He should have left much sooner, but there was nothing to do now save turn and proceed down as quietly as he could. By some miracle he reached the bottom and was outside looking up before Ardyn caught sight of him.

Reina remained at the top of the lighthouse. Even as Ignis watched, she hardly moved. But a moment later the door opened and Ardyn walked out.

"And what do I find but the princess' faithful retainer, keeping keen eyes on his prize," Ardyn said.

"And if I were?"

"Then I would advise you to keep a closer watch," he said. "Oh, but whyever would you listen to me? I am evil incarnate, after all. Carry on from afar. It will, doubtless, turn out just fine."


	49. Cor, Left Behind

_Day 44:_

"Cor!" Ignis pounded on the door. "Trouble is brewing."

Cor was upright and pulling the door open before he was awake. He opened his eyes to find Ignis outside, hand still raised to knock on the door.

"What?" He managed.

"Ardyn is dropping hints that Reina intends to attempt another flight. I would give it little weight, but she is distant and aloof. If nothing else, it warrants attention."

He hadn't really needed an explanation. Ignis could have said 'Reina' and Cor would have been out the door. Something had made Ignis uncomfortable enough that he had woken Cor. That was all he needed.

He pushed past Ignis, pulling a shirt on over his head and taking the stairs down to the dining room two at a time. He stepped over the hole in the rotting porch and landed in the dirt.

"Where is she?" He asked.

Ignis glanced around. "She was here a moment ago."

"And you left her _alone_?"

"No, I left her with Iris."

Small improvement. If she was gone again…

He turned up the hill and made for the lighthouse. She didn't need transportation to get out of Caem. She could leave them high and dry here. They didn't even know where she was going next. Niflheim, she'd said. Last time Cor had looked at a map, Niflheim had been a damn big place.

"Marshal!"

Cor stopped short at Ignis' call and turned back to see him pointing off the path, where the cliff cut away into the ocean. Between the trees, two people were visible standing on the edge. When the relief had passed he found space in his mind to wonder what he would even say to her.

He made his way in that direction anyway. Better if he didn't say anything at all, but she should know he was there. If they were having a conversation they didn't want interrupted then tough shit.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Good. You're here."

Not a private conversation, then.

"You wanted me?"

"I know you'll be angry with me either way, but it would be worse if I went behind your back," she said. "Take care of Father, will you? I know he doesn't need it anymore, but I'd feel better knowing you were with him."

"The hell are you talking about?"

She turned to Ignis. "And you should be back with Noctis. He needs you. Give him a punch for me and tell him I'll see him real soon."

"Don't you dare." Cor stepped forward. Too late. Shadows grew around her, covering her like a cloak until she was nothing but a silhouette against the sky. Then she was a cloud of black mist.

What the hell was that?

He had seen Ardyn do that before. _Ardyn._ Some daemon shit, he had thought. But now Reina…

"Reina!" His arms passed through the black cloud as it dissipated. He stumbled one step too far, thrown off balance by the lack of resistance. Iris caught his arm and dragged him back from the edge. Amazing she'd had enough leverage.

"We have to go after her!" Iris said.

Someone had to know where the royal tomb in Niflheim was. Regis, maybe, though they had never gone that far when they were boys. It had to have been in one of the books somewhere in the Citadel. People recorded everything the royals did from birth to death. They had to have records of where all the kings were buried.

But how long would it take to get that information? How many people would he need combing through the library to find one single tomb?

Cor turned on his heel; he cut across straight to the lighthouse without bothering to return to the path.

"Marshal?" Ignis jogged to keep up with him. "We have no notion of where she might be going."

"You think I don't know that?"

Ignis fell silent. They reached the lighthouse, the three of them together; the doors opened before Cor could lay hands on them.

"Ah, and here they are!" Ardyn threw the double doors wide and stood in the doorway, arms spread. "How punctual. Your boat awaits, Lion."

Cor lunged forward and grabbed the front of Ardyn's shirt. "You knew she would do this."

"Of course I did," he said. "So did you."

"Then what the hell are you doing here, still?"

"You'll pardon my presumptuousness, I'm sure, but I had thought you might like to know where she was going."

He had—

What?

He had stayed behind to tell them where she was going?

"If I was wrong, say the word and I'll be gone," Ardyn said.

Cor released him and took a step back. It didn't make any sense. He could have gone with her without saying a word to them. He could have helped her slip away himself, but here he was helping them instead.

"The engine is running, lady and gentlemen." Ardyn stepped aside and motioned toward the stairs.

Sure enough, down below in the harbor the boat was ready and running with Cid at the helm.

"You kids gonna stand there all day gawking? Thought we had somewhere important to be!"

No time to pack. He had a sword and that was all that mattered. Cor leapt onto the deck and turned to give Iris a hand up, then Ignis. Ardyn stood on the dock and held his hand out hopefully. Cor walked away.

"The manners in this retinue leave something to be desired." Ardyn climbed aboard on his own.

Once all four of them were on deck, the rumbling of the engine grew into a whine and the dock seemed to drift away behind the boat. In minutes they were in the open ocean. Or near enough.

"Well?" Cor rounded on Ardyn.

Ardyn dropped onto one of the sofas in the center of the deck and inspected his nails critically. "It will be hours before we are close enough to worry about where to go next. For now, Niflheim will do."

"You will give me the name of where we're going now—because I don't trust you not to disappear before we get there," Cor said.

"Oh, Lion. You really are very cute. If I had wanted to leave you drifting on the ocean or bumbling pointlessly through Niflheim, I would have been gone long before now." He looked up and fixed Cor with his unsettling yellow eyes. "But you're right not to trust me."

Cor folded his arms over his chest, meeting Ardyn's gaze. He said that as often as Reina said 'I'm fine.'

Ardyn sighed. "Cartanica. The next royal is entombed within Fodina Caestino—an abandoned quarry."

"Why should we trust you?" Ignis had come to stand beside Cor.

"Come now, Toasty, we had this conversation not more than an hour ago."

"You could well be leading us off course," Ignis said.

"I certainly could be."

"Why?" Iris leaned over the back of the sofa. "Why are you helping us?"

"Because you're all so amusing when you're confused. Look at you! Glowering and growling like you can threaten the truth out of me. Don't be ridiculous. We all know I do precisely what I wish to do." He crossed his legs and jingled his foot as if to some unheard tune.

He said they couldn't trust him. He said it so often that Cor had begun to wonder if he could trust that he couldn't trust Ardyn. In the few days since Cor had met them on Ravatogh, he had come to a conclusion. When he said they couldn't trust him it didn't mean everything he said was a lie and every action was insincere. It meant for everything he said, everything he did, there were equal chances that it was a lie or the truth.

If he had just been a liar that would have been simple. But he had just told the truth: he _did _do whatever the hell he wanted. It didn't matter what that did to other people. He didn't care about other people.

But he did care about Reina. He had helped her already. He could claim he was just helping himself—say he wanted her alive so she could help him kill Bahamut. But that part would have been a lie.

So this was a lie, too. Maybe he was enjoying himself, but that wasn't why he had stayed.

No. Against all odds, against anything that should have been physically possible from a psychopath like him, he actually wanted to help Reina.


	50. Lunafreya, Making a Choice

_Day 44:_

Her knees ached from kneeling on the tile floor in her guest room. Her legs had gone numb. Her hands, clasped before her, were cold and dry. If only they would give her some sign that she did not walk the wrong path—that she had not been serving those who had created the darkness in the first place. If only they would give her some reason to go on believing.

But all they gave her was silence. No answers came, though she reached for them, though she communed with the souls of the Gods, though she cried out for the people to the Astrals.

If they were not guilty, why would they not simply tell her the truth?

If the Astrals had not created the Starscourge, why had Reina seen that?

That Ardyn had manipulated Reina's visions only stood up as an excuse for so long. Could he change what she saw? Luna had no notion. But her visions of Insomnia's fall had been detailed and accurate enough that she had prevented it entirely.

Or was she meant to believe that the Gods had sent Reina false visions so that she would be led astray?

And if so… _why? _

What sort of god would even attempt such a thing?

Or perhaps they wished Luna to believe that Reina's Dreams were simply falsehoods in themselves. That she was delusional and led only by Ardyn now.

But already Luna had seen too much of what Reina's foresight could do to believe that. She had saved Insomnia. She had taken down Niflheim single-handedly when all had seemed impossible. All that from her Dreams.

Perhaps if they had listened to the truth of her visions before, Tenebrae would not have fallen. Mother would not have died. Ravus would not have turned into the man he was now.

If they had listened before.

"The Oracle will hear her messenger."

Lunafreya didn't turn. Insomnia stretched out in front of her, visible through the balcony doors. All of that was still intact and Lucian because of Reina's Dreams. If that was not proof…

"Have you come to bring condemnation of my blasphemy?" Luna asked.

"The Oracle questions because no answers have been laid before her. To ask a question is not a sin."

Luna did turn then. Gentiana stood not five feet away, hands folded in front of her, placid as ever.

"But that is not a subject for this time," Gentiana said. "The Oracle must listen. A choice will be laid before her and no advice can be offered."

"What choice?"

"A call has been sent. Thirty-four messengers across this star are summoned by the Draconian. They are to be His spear, sharpened and unleashed upon one who dares stand against him."

"Reina… He's sending the messengers to _attack _Reina?" They were meant to bear the Gods' will unto mankind. In a roundabout way, this could be considered his will, but it sat like a cold lump in her stomach. "Would you truly kill her?"

"A choice is laid before the Oracle," Gentiana repeated. "Three messengers are bound to abide by that choice."

"I see."

So there it was, laid at her feet without any more time for thought. Did she stand with the Caelums, with the man she had loved for twelve long years, with her brother, and with all of mankind, whom she was sworn to protect? Or did she follow the path of the Oracle and stand by the Gods?

Resolve hardened in her chest. She rose, knees aching. "How long do we have?"

"The summons has only now been issued. The messengers will assemble and execute orders when all have come."

"Will your absence delay them?" Luna asked.

"For a time."

"Good. Thank you. Do whatever you can—anything that might afford her some more time."

She tied her hair back without glancing in the mirror and hurried to the hall door. She had been confined to chambers for over two weeks, now, forbidden from visiting any other part of the Citadel. She might have made an appeal to Ravus, were he still present, but he had returned to Niflheim on the king's business some days ago. Nevertheless, if there was cause to make an exception to her house arrest, this had to be it.

The guards halted her at the door.

"You are not permitted to leave your quarters."

"I realize that, but this is really very important. If you would pass a message along to the king, I would be grateful; I really must see him immediately."

He sighed and glanced at his partner, who shrugged one shoulder. He reached for his radio. "Lunafreya asking to see His Majesty."

The response came through, distorted over the radio but loud enough for Luna to hear: "Tell her to bugger off."

The Crownsguard at the lift shrugged one shoulder. "Bugger off."

As with any palace, word traveled quickly in the Citadel. It was no secret that Princess Reina—the hero of the hour—was displeased with Luna. She was a guest in Insomnia insofar as she was fed and watered and not locked in the dungeon. In most every other way she was a prisoner.

Her eyes swept over the Crownsguard's uniform. Her education of Lucian law enforcement was rusty at best, but she could count bars.

"Lieutenant, I understand full well that I am not welcome in this nation at this time. But if you do not send proper word to His Majesty that I must speak to him, Princess Reina will be in grave danger. I do not know how His Majesty treats those who endanger his daughter, but I daresay I would rather not find out. Would you?"

A series of emotions worked across his face. Surprise, confusion, and some manner of dubious concern. A look that might have been called Better Safe Than Sorry.

He picked up his radio again. "Umaro, tell His Majesty that Lady Lunafreya claims to have information regarding Princess Reina's safety."

Lady Lunafreya this time. She had gone up in his estimation rather quickly.

The radio was silent for a moment, before the response came:

"_His Majesty wants you to escort her up."_


	51. Cor, Placing his Trust

_Day 44:_

He'd never thought much about how fast boats travelled before now. Too damn slow, that was how fast.

Cor paced the deck. Cid said three or four hours until they reached Niflheim and Ardyn guessed another thirty minutes to an hour before they reached Cartanica from the sea. He didn't trust Reina on her own for two minutes.

Damn that girl. He spent more time chasing her down than actually doing his gods damned job—and even when he did find her, she wouldn't let him lift a finger. He could support protecting the people he loved. He couldn't support pursuing that with the mindless sort of passion that she seemed to have developed. Trying to protect Cor and Ignis—even Iris—from combat was a damn fool thing to do.

He'd yelled at her more than once about it in the past few days. But then she got that look like she was actually sorry and she would have done anything not to be hated, and he remembered how fucked up she was. He had no idea what she had gone through; he was yelling at her because he loved her and maybe she knew that, but she couldn't tell the difference between real life and Dreams, sometimes.

He never should have let her out of his sight.

He stopped pacing, leaned on the rail, and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wouldn't have made a difference, even if he had been there—hell, he _had_ been there—when she got an idea in her head, it stuck and no one could knock it free no matter how hard they hit that thick skull of hers.

Everyone was silent.

Correction: Everyone besides Ardyn was silent. He was still lounging comfortably on the sofa, smiling and humming to himself like he was having the time of his life. Chaos and suffering. That was when he thrived.

Iris was leaning against the side, opening and closing her fists like an angry cat sharpening its claws. Ignis sat, apart from Ardyn, with his elbows on his knees and his head hanging forward. Three guesses what he was thinking about. They were all torturing themselves over what could be happening while they were stuck on this gods damned boat.

Except Ardyn.

Hours passed. They were only a few minutes out from Niflheim, when Cor's phone rang and Regis' name showed on the screen. Great. Just what he needed.

"Your Majesty," Cor answered.

"_I have received word that my daughter is in danger."_

He couldn't have heard that she had gotten away from them again. No one but Cor was talking to Regis. Probably.

"_The Draconian has sent the Messengers for her."_

Cor had to back away from the edge before he dropped his phone in the ocean. Now? He sent them _now_, while everyone was miles away from her with no way of catching up any faster?

"_Cor? Is she safe?"_

Hell if he was going to lie to his king, though.

"No."

"_What?"_

"She went on her own to Niflheim. Just up and disappeared. We're on her trail but no one has that kind of magic, whatever the hell it was. It'll be at least half an hour before we get where she was going."

And when they did, they had no guarantee she would be there anymore.

Regis was silent. It was always dangerous when he didn't say anything.

Finally, he said, "_I hardly need remind you how important your duty is, Cor."_

"No, Your Majesty."

"_Nor tell you to make your way to her with all due haste."_

"I am, Your Majesty."

"_But I will issue this reminder that I expect you to protect her. At any and all costs."_

"I will, Your Majesty."

He had been planning to. But it was difficult to sacrifice anything and everything for her when she was across the ocean in another continent. He didn't have any tricks that he could throw from here to wherever the hell she was.

"_When next we speak I expect you to be in her company."_

"I will be, Your Majesty," Cor said, but Regis had already hung up.

Cor slipped his phone back into his pocket and ran his hands over his face. "Shit."

"What did His Majesty have to say?" Ignis asked.

Everyone was watching him. Even Cid kept glancing over his shoulder in their direction.

"That every Messenger on Eos is about to swarm Reina while we're stuck on this gods damned boat," Cor said.

Ignis rose to his feet—slowly—the worry on his face fading into deadpan terror. Iris stood up straighter, both hands frozen into fists. Even Ardyn stopped jiggling his foot.

"Is there no way we can reach her sooner?" Ignis asked.

Land was in sight. But Cartanica was not.

"No," Cor said. "We can't." His eyes landed on Ardyn. "But you can."

"Am I to understand that you want to send _me _to protect your precious princess?"

"You're the only one who can," Cor said, "I know she's tough but there are dozens of Messengers. You know she can't win that. And don't pretend like it doesn't matter to you if she lives or dies."

Ardyn scrutinized him through narrowed eyes.

"Stop staring at me and _go_!"

A smile stretched across Ardyn's face. His head tipped back and laughter poured out of his mouth. Even as he turned into that same black fog that Reina had, the sound seemed to hang in the air. Whatever that thing she did was, it came from him. From the Starscourge.

Then he was gone. It was just the three of them, pulling into port with only a vague notion of where to find Reina.

"Godspeed, Ardyn," Cor whispered to the wind.


End file.
